


All That Remains

by AGDoren



Series: All That Remains [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Feels, Grief/Mourning, Multi, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 00:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12243969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGDoren/pseuds/AGDoren
Summary: Set on Earth-5, Count of Monte Cristo AU. When Barry Allen is found dead in a house fire, burned beyond recognition Iris West and Team Flash are left to mourn his apparent death. Count of Monte Cristo inspired AU.





	All That Remains

**Author's Note:**

> I started to get this idea towards the end of season 3 when Sav*Barry finally came out of the suit. This fic is entirely AU set on E5. E5 is different from E1 in a lot of small ways. Henry Allen was acquitted of Nora's murder, but the murder itself and the trial destroyed his reputation and career. Francine West is alive but struggles with clinical depression. Barry's journey as The Flash runs parallel with the first season of the show more or less but diverts with Malcolm as the big bad of season two if you will. Skip to endnotes for potential triggers. Also, WestPark and KillverVibe coming in part two.

_Chapter I:_ You Were Supposed to Be Happy

Iris pressed her foot on the gas, anger growing with each passing moment. She didn't know what kind of game Barry was playing, but she was determined to put a stop to it, now.

She ran a red light, cut off the driver of a gleaming black SUV that swore at her as she left them behind. Breaking a few more traffic laws, Iris pulled into the perpetually empty S.T.A.R. Labs parking lot with a screech, laying a coating of rubber on the pavement and filling the air with a heavy burnt stench.

Her anger grew with each step. Barry was going to tell her everything. No more secrets, no more absurd cover stories.

Iris jabbed the call button for the elevator and snapped her nail in the process tearing a long jagged strip across the bed.

"Damn it!" She bit off the offending nail and looked away from her reflection in the gleaming elevator doors: smudged eyeliner, wild hair, soot covered clothing and a face streaked with ash and the trails of black tears.

The elevator doors slid open, and she stepped inside pushing the button for the cortex. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, foot tapping with impatience. The flimsy lies Barry told to try and hide the fact that he was The Flash were one thing, this was something else altogether.

She strode into the long empty corridor, each step punctuated by the echoing click of her heels. The concrete walls making her think more of an underground bunker than a laboratory.

It had been more than a year since Barry had woken from his nine-month coma, but Iris still remembered her way to the cortex. When he'd been a patient at STAR Labs, she had visited him almost daily, talking to him and reading to him. Praying for him to wake, promising God that if he only let Barry wake-up, she would tell him the truth about her feelings.

Her confidence cracked for the first time since she'd realized the police had to be wrong. The memory of Barry complexion sheet white, tubes, wires, and electrodes connected to him swam before her eyes. Doubt bloomed, and Iris felt her stomach twist, bile rose in her throat carried on a swell of emotions pounding beneath her anger.

Iris pushed her doubts aside.

Nothing else made sense. The police's so-called facts, the story the coroner had told her- Barry was The Flash, a super hero, they didn't know him.

Iris marshaled her arguments before stepping into the cortex. She and Barry were engaged. Being The Flash was his secret to tell, but how could they be partners when he was hiding something that such a big part of his life? The secrets, the absurd cover-ups they ended now. If Caitlin or Cisco tried to dissemble on his behalf, she had words for them.

Iris took a deep breath and stalked into the cortex, fists clenched at her sides to determined to get answers.

Caitlin sat eyes red-rimmed, her white face nearly colorless. Cisco Ramon's usually warm complexion was ashen, face swollen, eyes red. Despair, thick and undeniable hung heavy over both of them, and Iris ground her teeth.

"The Flash isn't dead."

Caitlin Snow's eyes widened, and she stared, a deer caught in headlights while Cisco's mouth worked. The two looked at each other for a moment, and then Caitlin sighed shoulders slumping, and Cisco shook his head.

"So you know," Caitlin said.

"I'm not stupid Caitlin. I've known for months. I don't know what's going on, but I do know that you better get Barry out here right now and tell me everything, because." She paused to take a breath, push the swelling tide down as she held up one trembling hand. "The Flash doesn't fall asleep-" she paused and pressed her lips together, holding back tears. "The Flash doesn't fall asleep and get overwhelmed by smoke inhalation and die in a house fire."

She could feel tears pricking under her lids. Which was stupid, because it had to be a trick, a plan to deceive Captain Cold or the Mirror Master. A trick to confuse The Flash's enemies. Barry couldn't be dead; it was a trick.

"Iris," Cisco spoke now, his voice soft and calm. Too soft as if he feared setting her off, he took a step toward hands held out.

"It's a trick."

"I didn't believe it either." It was Caitlin's turn to speak, the tremor in her voice clear to Iris' ears. "That's why I took a sample from the body they found at Henry's house. It's him, Iris, I'm sorry, but it's Barry." Caitlin shook her head. "I didn't believe it at first either, but it's him."

Cisco tried to put an arm around her, but Iris shrugged him off.

"No!" Iris pulled away from them as she started to tremble. This wasn't what was supposed to happen he was supposed to be here. It was supposed to be a trick, a plan to capture some meta-human wreaking havoc on Central City. He was supposed to be alive.

Iris started to tremble, her stomach sick twisting.

"Please. He's supposed to be alive." This wasn't what they were supposed to say. "Cisco if it needs to be a secret, you can tell me please."

"I'm sorry." Cisco shook his head.

"But we sent out the save the dates, we're going to have our honeymoon in Paris, because Barry got that big bonus, I'm moving in-" She sounded like a child in her own ears, bewildered at the canceling of Christmas or some other longed for event, rattling off a list of irrelevant facts as if they could somehow remake an indifferent world.

"I'm so sorry Iris." The other woman met her eyes now, words clear and deliberate. "I know how you feel and I wish with all my heart that there was a plan and we could bring Barry out of a secret room for you."

Caitlin took her hands now, and Iris felt the swell breaking over her anger and objections, a tide of grief washing through her life. It pounded through her heart opening a hole where Barry had been and sweeping away all else.

"But he can't be-"

Iris' words dissolved into sobs and Caitlin put an arm around her shoulders.

"I know Iris, I know. You were getting married; you were going to spend the rest of your lives together, you were supposed to be happy. "

 

_Chapter II:_ A Thin Line

 

**_16 years ago_ **

_Iris Ann Russel West was pretty sure she hated Barry Allen._

_"That's perfect Barry." The ten-year old beamed under Mrs. Graham's praise. "Class we should all try to be more like Barry with our math homework._

_Iris' eyes narrowed, but she was watching him, so she saw the slump of his narrow shoulders as the teacher urged the rest of class to be like him._

_Barry made his way to his seat as Mrs. Graham wrote another problem on the chalkboard, ¾ x 5/8, convert the answer into a decimal._

_Barry Allen's scrawny, white arm shot up, and Mrs. Graham chuckled at that. Iris rolled her eyes._

_"Barry you can't answer all the problems, you have to leave some for your classmates." Mrs. Graham's voice was warm and gentle when she spoke to Barry, and Iris decided she definitely hated him._

_Besides being perfect at math, he was always watching her and looking away and stammering. It was weird, he was weird. He'd given her a caterpillar once._

_"Iris come up to the board to solve the problem."_

_The girl ground her teeth in frustration. She'd been so busy glaring at Barry that she'd forgotten her strategy for avoiding math problems, act casual and keep your head down._

_"Yes, Mrs. Graham."_

_She also hated math. It wasn't like the other subjects. She was good at those, reading, history, science, art, gym. Math was her only problem ever since fourth grade she'd been struggling, but had still managed to get a C in math. Now in fifth grade she was actually falling behind, and this was a problem. An F' in math meant no summer trip._

_There was always something new with math which should have been exciting, but as soon as she started to grasp one thing the teacher introduced another. And while she worked on the new one she forgot the old one, but then you always needed the old one for something else._

_Iris was pretty sure she could convert the fraction into a decimal, but she couldn't remember the all the steps to multiply fractions. Did you cross multiply? She was fairly certain that division was involved somehow._

_She tried to do what she remembered, but half way through the problem a couple of kids snickered. Her stomach dropped to into her shoes, and her face flamed hot with embarrassment._

_"Iris," Mrs. Graham prompted her._

_"I-I don't remember." She admitted before glancing back at her classmates to see Barry Allen watching her._

_"It's alright Iris. Class, can anyone help Iris with her problem?"_

_Barry Allen's skinny, white arm shot up again. Mrs. Graham laughed that delighted chuckle and called him to the board._

_Iris stood and watched as he erased her work and completed the problem explaining it perfectly in a clear, high, voice._

_"It's easy." He looked at her beaming with pride and Iris only glared and stomped back to her seat._

_She definitely hated him._

_So when she found herself sitting across from him, Barry grinning like an idiot she almost got up and left the room. She hadn't exactly been excited by the idea of staying after school, but she needed to pass math. When her parents told her Mrs. Graham had arranged a tutor she had accepted. Her new bike, the trip to stay with her mom's family in So-cal for a month that summer none of it would happen if she failed math. Still, she hadn't known Barry Allen would be the tutor._

_She glared at him and his smile faded._

_"Iris, Barry your parents will be here to pick you up at four-fifteen. I'll be doing my own work, but if you have any questions just ask. Why don't the two of you start with yesterday's homework."_

_Iris sighed and pulled out a paper filled with glaring red_ X's _._

 _Iris sighed and pulled out a paper marked with glaring red_ X's _. Barry looked over her paper appraising it and Iris squirmed in her seat waiting._

_"Barry, Iris." They both looked up at Mrs. Graham. "I'm gonna step out into the hall for a moment. I'll be right outside." Cell phone to her ear Mrs. Graham went into the hall._

_"You're really smart."_

_Iris frowned, "I'm failing math."_

_"And you're doing great in everything else. The story you read in_   _English class was really funny, you had the best history project, and I marked off your science quiz, a hundred percent. You're really smart."_

_Iris felt herself smiling a bit._

_"Mrs. Graham just teaches it too fast."_

_"You don't have a problem with it."_

_"And we're gonna make it so you don't have a problem with it either_ , _" Barry said sitting up really straight and giving her an encouraging smile, green eyes warm. "You're really smart, this will be easy. You'll see."_

_Mrs. Graham came back into the classroom then._

_"Let's get to work."_

_The hour went faster than expected and Barry didn't do anything too weird or even annoying. His eyes lit up when he talked about math, and he explained it better than she'd expected, better than the teacher. He had fun studying tips. He liked to use colorful pens, stickers, make little doodles in his notes, stars, rainbows that sort of thing. It was kind of fun._

_He was still weird, but maybe if he weren't such an annoying show-off, she wouldn't hate him quite so much. Their moms seemed to get along just fine. The two women stood chatting far too long for Iris who was ready to be at home to watch tv or play or read._

_When they did finally leave, and her mom asked her how it went, she replied it was fine. Francine West merely chuckled._

_She stayed after twice a week for a few weeks, and Iris felt her hatred of Barry Allen starting to melt. Besides her math grades steadily improving it turned out he wasn't quite as weird as he seemed when you actually talked to him._

_When Nora asked Francine if she minded watching Barry, one evening tutoring moved to the Wests house and not long after tutoring became study sessions._

_She started to notice things. Like Barry didn't mean to be an annoying show-off. When he said math was easy, he meant it to be encouraging, not that he found it easy. He didn't like it when Mrs. Graham compared him to the other kids. It made them dislike and bully him even more._

_She also started to notice the way his green eyes lit up with excitement when he talked about science and that sometimes when he smiled; Iris found herself unable to resist smiling back at him._

_He wasn't doing so very well at history something Iris found confusing. History was like one big, long story some parts of it were more interesting than others, but it wasn't hard. So she helped him with history, and he helped her with math. Study sessions were at her house or his, and that sometimes meant staying for dinner._

_Somehow they started playing together after school, biking around the neighborhood on warm spring weekends with Wally in tow. Iris decided that she liked some of his nerdy interests. She told him one day that she wanted to be a writer when she grew-up and let him read a story she'd written about a girl who was a cowboy. When Barry presented her with an illustration of her cowgirl on horseback wielding a lasso -with her same complexion and curly hair- that he'd drawn and colored himself Iris realized that Barry had somehow become her best friend._

_What she didn't realize about the ache in her heart at leaving Central City and him for a month that summer, about the unsettled queasy feeling in her stomach and her fervent secret, wish that he would come with them to California, was that she loved Barry Allen._

 

_Chapter III:_ Smiling Faces

 

Malcolm scanned the church, dark eyes seeking one petite, dark-haired woman, in particular, his late brother's fiance. For just a moment the corner of his mouth quirked upwards, and he forced it back down. A pleased, self-satisfied grin was not appropriate for a funeral. He'd made certain to call and offer condolences, send flowers, and offer any assistance. Still, he gave her space; she'd need time. She loved Barry that much he knew.

The church doors opened, and he turned his head at the sound to see Iris West enter with her family. She leaned heavily on her father's arm, bereft, broken and yet breathtaking in her beauty. From the glow of silent tears highlighting the apples of her full flushed cheeks to the soft clinging silk gracing her slender frame hugging and pulling with each movement providing a teasing hint as to what lay underneath and the black lace pantyhose climbing those long shapely legs like sin. She was elegant, ethereal, sexy. Too good for Barry.

Barry, his fraternal twin who had been given everything while he had been given nothing. Barry who had grown up surrounded by love and friends that supported him through grief and tragedy while he Malcolm had no one.

Well, that was changing.

He watched them. Watched Henry Allen, embrace his would-be daughter in law. Take her to the family pew sit her beside himself. There were a few of Barry's maternal relatives one of his aunts, a few cousins. He imagined being tried for murdering your wife tended to make funerals difficult.

The service would be starting soon. Malcolm straightened his tie and smoothed his hands over soft Italian wool of his suit jacket, savoring the feel of it under his fingers. He made his way to the front of the church to stand to offer Iris his condolences.

"Hello, Iris."

"Malcolm." She said his name breathlessly and got to her feet to hug him. They had been friends for some years now, and she let him offer this comfort.

"Thank you for coming."

"Of course Iris you're my friend, and I know how much the two loved each other. "

"Thanks." She turned back to his father. "Henry you remember Malcolm."

"Yeah, thanks for coming."

The older man shook his hand without really looking at him.

Malcolm frowned. He shouldn't care, but the older man's indifference rankled.

"You're coming to the wake right?" Iris recalled his attention with that question.

"Of course."

The organ started to play, and Malcolm knew they were ready to start.

"I'm gonna go find a seat."

Malcolm found a seat near the back of the church planning to zone out of the service with his phone.

"Dearly beloved we are gathered here today to lay to rest Bartholomew Henry Allen."

Malcolm snorted, opened Candy Crush planning to put in his earphones, but Iris started crying then. Not a few polite tears, but sobs long and loud and for the first time since he'd hatched his plan to murder his brother Malcolm Thawne felt a vague stirring of disquiet, his confidence suddenly shaken.

He mistrusted most people, but Iris West was one of the few human beings that he liked. He'd never known her to do anything petty or cruel, and he'd never caught her in a lie. Barry, of course, had hidden the fact that he was the Flash from her for over a year. Another reason why Barry didn't deserve her.

Hearing those broken sobs stirred doubt in his plan.

Iris had been attracted to him, had liked him. It was a family emergency that had drawn him away from her at a critical time. If he'd been able to stay her childhood love for Barry would have been transferred to him. He was certain of that. Hearing her now though he felt some uncertainty. Her sobs quieted abruptly, and he stood to up to see that Henry had put an arm around her she was crying quietly on his shoulder.

Malcolm considered all that he had achieved in the last few years. Mastering the blue flame, taking control of the Thawne family, destroying The Flash. It would be simple enough to make one woman love him. She would grieve Barry for perhaps a year; he would be helpful and supportive, keep himself busy with Thawne enterprises. And when the time came she would be his he would make sure of that.

 

_Chapter IV:_ The BlameGame

 

It was too much. The nauseating smell of the food, people wanting to talk to her about Barry. Between the church and cemetery, Iris was drained and exhausted.

Watching them lower Barry's casket into the earth she had been seized by a sudden desire to throw herself in. Iris had found that writing part of her brain that was always wondering asking questions. Had Shakespeare felt that way upon losing some loved one and so Hamlet acted out that desire? She understood it. It had seemed like madness in that moment to let them bury Barry, to hide him away from the world. Seemed like madness that this was simply it that there was nothing more to do.

He was the Flash, after all, it didn't seem possible that he could have just died in a house fire. She had wanted to fight suddenly to win him back from...death? But death was not a force to be fought.

Instead, she found herself hiding in her childhood bedroom, while friends and family filled her parent's house.

There was a floor to ceiling bookcase with all of her favorite books, an old Destiny's child poster on the wall along with Rhiana, Kanye West, and The Jonas brothers. Her white writing desk and composition books filled with her teenaged musings were still in place.

The old bed sagged a bit under her weight, but she stayed there, staring up at a universe of glow in the dark stickers decorated the ceiling. Barry had hung them for her nearly a decade ago.

Memories jumped out at her in this room, but no tears came, no overwhelming sense of sadness. Numb wasn't exactly what she felt. Drained, wrung out would be more appropriate, but so impossibly heavy.

"Iris." Her mother's voice was accompanied by a knock.

"Come in mom."

Iris sat up as the door opened drawing her knees to her chest and tucking her arms beneath her thighs.

Her mom's entry was accompanied by the warm, rich scent of soup filling the air and Iris felt both hunger and nausea stir.

"I brought you something to eat."

"I feel sick."

"I know, but that's because you haven't been eating. You have to eat."

_'Not true. I could waste away.'_

"Try just a little, okay sweetheart."

Iris looked at her mother's face, saw pleading in her dark eyes and the heavy circles underneath them, noted the way her mother gripped the tray with tightly in her fists. Francine and Barry had been very close. Barry had needed a mother during the year and a half he'd lived with them, and Francine had been happy to fill in. That was what Francine did, throw herself into the lives of others, a way to hide from her own suffering. Her father had once called it an addiction.

Iris straightened her legs and let Francine settle the tray across her lap.

It was just a bowl of plain, clear broth, probably chicken. Iris took a cautious sip expecting she'd retch it back up immediately. Instead, warmth spread through her, soothing her raw aching throat and stirring an almost instant and ravenous hunger. She ate spoonful after spoonful, lifting the bowl to her lips at the end to drink the last drop.

"I guess I was hungry."

Francine smiled, and Iris' stomach rumbled.

"I'm still hungry."

"I'll go make you a plate."

"Thanks, mom."

Francine wasn't gone long before there was a knock at the door.

"Who is it?"

"Caitlin and Cisco."

Iris frowned she'd wanted to be alone.

"Come on in."

The door opened, and Caitlin sidled in followed by Cisco. She'd seen them both at the church, dressed appropriately in black Caitlin's doe eyes dull and distant, marked by a mash of bluish circle hiding beneath face powder. Cisco's expression was grim, dampened as if a great weight sat on his shoulders.

Cisco strode in a determined look on his face and sat down across from her on the love seat. Caitlin stood a moment wringing her hands before joining him.

"Listen, Iris," Cisco leaned toward her. "Barry became my best friend over the past two years, not because he was the Flash but because he was a good man, a great man. I loved him-"

"We loved him," Caitlin put in.

"Yeah and we just want to extend that friendship to you. If you need anything, anything at all we want to support you, be there for you ok?"

"You know-" Iris could hear the tremor in her voice as she spoke. "I keep trying to understand- I can't stop thinking about it. Like how could someone with Barry's powers die in a house fire? He was so fast." Iris bit her lip and blinked back tears. "I studied The Flash. I don't get it. I need to understand."

Caitlin glanced at Cisco who nodded. She took a deep breath before speaking.

"He was using a sedative." Caitlin's words were a whisper.

"A sedative?" Iris felt a sudden twisting dread in her stomach.

"Barry has-" The geneticist took a deep breath "Had a very high metabolism being a speedster."

She nodded, remembering just how much Barry could eat in a sitting.

"His cells were also in a state of constant regeneration so he healed really fast and could take a lot of punishment."

Iris flinched at the thought of Barry, her Barry being hurt.

"He got into a lot of fights as The Flash, he would heal fast even from serious injuries, but he was often in a lot of pain." Caitlin's voice shook as she spoke, hands twisting in her lap.

"I synthesized a pain medication for him-"

"-You synthesized a medication for him?"

"Y-yes. It -um, also served as a sedative." The final words came out in a whispered rush. "Something to let him sleep through the healing process. Something that wouldn't be processed as quickly by his metabolism. That medication was in his system at the time of death."

Caitlin finished her explanation eyes trained on her lap.

"So this is your fault."

The other woman looked up eyes flooded with guilty tears, lips twisted and Iris nodded as realization dawned on her. She'd known from the beginning that Barry would have needed help to die in that fire.

"It is. He wouldn't have been sleeping if you hadn't drugged him?"

"You can't blame Caitlin-"

"-Shut-up Cisco! If you really cared about Barry, you wouldn't be defending her."

"Barry was my friend, and I cared about him too," Caitlin insisted.

With that one phrase, something in her broke. Iris sat up straight, and some vicious, savage part of her that she'd never known existed until Barry's death stirred, surging, urging her to yell, scream, slap Caitlin Snow's face until it glowed red and it must have shown on her face. Cisco and Caitlin drew back.

"You didn't care about him at all!"

Iris screamed and leaped to her feet, skin hot with rage, vision fuzzy, body trembling with it. The tears and anger that had disappeared before returned surging. When the pair on the couch sat staring at her Iris felt her anger surge into rage as stars shot across her vision. The pair on the couch got to their feet, and Cisco imposed himself between the two women.

"You're protecting her?"

"Iris, you need to calm down," Caitlin's voice was calm, professional and it only angered her more.

"You frigid, fucking bitch you never cared. It's your fault my fiance is dead. My best friend is dead! The person I loved more than anyone in the whole world is gone because you and you want me to believe you cared." Iris shoved Cisco out of her way with all her strength. "You killed him!" The final words came out in a shriek, and she flew at Caitlin determined to drive her from the room, from the house. She didn't belong here-

-And suddenly it was hard to breathe. Iris staggered, her vision blurred and the world went black.

 

_Chapter V:_ Take Care

  _15 years ago_

_"Did you just say that?"_

_"What? It's the truth, that man murdered our sister. I don't care what crazy story Barry makes up or if Henry's fingerprints weren't on the knife that killed her." Iris froze in the doorway of the enclosed front porch just out of sight of the adults._

_That Henry was guilty was the conclusion everyone jumped to because nothing else made sense, but she'd overheard her parents discussing it. Her dad had said Henry as the culprit didn't fit the facts, even if Barry's version of the story sounded like some childish fantasy._

_"That's utterly absurd Henry and Nora adored each other; he wouldn't harm a hair on her head."_

_"Oh yes, the Man in Yellow did it?" The second woman said voice heavy with scorn and twelve-year-old Iris identified her as Barry's Aunt Jeanette. The one who looked so much like Nora that she'd started crying when they met and Barry had simply thrown himself into her arms. The other woman must have been Mrs. Allen's sister Brittney._

_She should probably show herself or back out of hearing range, but the girl did neither of those things choosing instead to eavesdrop on adult conversation._

_"Nora indulged that child too much, can't tell fairy tales from reality."_

_"That boy just buried his mother, our sister and you expect him to be what? Normal. Are you serious right now Jeanette?"_

_"Are you serious right now? Our sister needs justice, and you're defending the man who killed her."_

_There was a long silence Iris focused straining her ears to catch every word._

_"I want justice for our sister just as much as you do, but you forget I lived with Henry and Nora for months there's no way-"_

_"-I don't believe this. I don't believe I'm hearing this."_

_Iris heard movement and shuffled backward just in time as Jeanette, Nora Allen's older sister stormed from the room. The older woman's red-rimmed eyes landed on her._

_"I was looking for Barry," she said quickly._

_"Well, he's not out there."_

_"Ok thanks."_

_"Hi Iris," Brittney was right behind her sister. "Is that cake for Barry?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"I haven't seen him since we got back here to the house."_

_"Okay, thanks."_

_Today was Nora Allen's funeral. She'd kept close to Barry at the church and then at the burial site, but gotten separated since they'd come home for the wake._

_It was hard not to worry about him. Her best friend who'd saved her summer, her best friend who always tried to make her smile._

_In the year since she and Barry had become friends, their two families had grown close. Close enough that since the Allen house was still considered a crime scene three weeks after Nora's death Nora Allen's wake was at the West house._

_"You overheard us didn't you."_

_She tried not to look guilty._

_"I used to eavesdrop all the time when I was your age. It's how you learn."_

_"No one ever tells us anything."_

_"I know. Well, I'm glad Barry has you for a best friend, he's gonna need good friends."_

_"I'm sorry about your sister."_

_"Thank you."_

_Brittney walked off into the house and chocolate cake in hand Iris continued her search for Barry: from room-to-room. There were people everywhere, not lots of them, but in each room, she checked eating, talking, drinking. She recognized a few of Dr. Allen's friends amongst them and some of his family from pictures._

_Barry hadn't much felt like eating, but Iris in this first experience of death found her appetite undisturbed. He'd wondered off while she'd been eating with Wally and some of Barry's cousins at the kid's table._

_She might have protested eating at the kid's table, after all, she had turned twelve, but it seemed well, childish to complain about it at a wake. So now she was wondering the house in search of Barry with a slice of chocolate cake in hopes of tempting him to eat something._

_Iris found her mom in the hall coming out of the first-floor bathroom. For all that everyone was sad Francine was in one of her up moods, cooking for everyone, organizing everything, checking on everyone. Even now she was radiant. Soft, dark close cropped, tapered curls framed her heart shaped face, her black silk wrap dress swishing softly with each movement._

_"Mom, have you seen Barry?"_

_Mrs. West considered a moment, a red tipped finger pressed to her lips._

_"I think he was outside, the back with some of his cousins earlier."_

_"Thanks, mom."_

_"Iris where did you get that cake?"_

_"Barry's Aunt Brittany cut it already."_

_Her mother frowned._

_"Is that for Barry?"_

_She nodded._

_"Okay sweetheart, you get yourself a piece too."_

_"Yeah, thanks, mom."_

_Chocolate cake was Barry's favorite, especially like her mom made with ganache frosting and little red rosettes. Her mom had made it for their Christmas party last year. Barry's eyes got all big and round when he tasted it. He'd talked about that cake for the rest of the winter. She was sure he would eat at least a little._

_Iris made her way to the back and found Jeanette's three kids, two boys and a girl all long and lean like Barry, the eldest of the two boys with the same flaming red hair as Nora all lounging on the patio furniture._

_It was warm for fall. Shirt sleeves, suit jackets, and velvet dresses were all that was needed._

_"Have you guys seen Barry?"_

_The youngest snickered and the oldest glared at him._

_"Nope."_

_The autumn wind blew strong and stiff just then pulling down a rain of bright yellow leaves from the old Silver Maple tree in their backyard. Three sets of eyes studied her._

_"My mom said he was out here."_

_"Haven't seen him," The eldest said with a shrug._

_Her frown deepened. Her dad had taught her to pay attention to more than what people said, to what they didn't say. The snicker, the glare, Barry had been out here, and something had happened that much was clear._

_"You guys got into an argument didn't you?"_

_The boy and the girl stiffened, and the youngest one flushed a guilty red._

_"About Mr. Allen?"_

_The oldest boy glared at her and while the youngest boy looked at her in shock at being caught._

_"We told him the truth, that his dad is a murderer."_

_Her free hand clenched into a fist with the flush of anger she felt. Barry was sensitive what this cousin had done was beyond cruel._

_"What a horrible thing to say to someone. You guys are ass-holes." Iris rolled her eyes, turned on her heel and went back into the house more determined to find Barry than ever._

_For a twelve-year-old Barry was a bit of a cry baby. He didn't do it to get his way or if he lost a game, but if you hurt his feelings his eyes would well-up, and he would sit sulking for a while, or if he got very angry he'd cry. He hated that about himself. If his cousins had said some nasty things about Dr. Allen killing Mrs. Allen he'd definitely be somewhere trying to hide how upset he was, trying to calm down. Some place quiet, dark and cool._

_Iris made her way back_ through _the house and hurried up the stairs. She checked the second-floor bathroom, and then her closet where she found him sitting on the floor face red and tear stained, black suit wrinkled. Barry met her eyes, and Iris felt her heart lurch. Her best friend looked so sad and desolate, the light that she usually saw there, the one that made it so easy to smile at him was dim, almost absent._

_"Hey, Barry."_

_"Hey."_

_"I brought you some cake," she said holding the saucer out to him._

_Barry eyed the cake a moment before taking it and setting it down in front of him._

_"I didn't know your mom made_ cake _."_

_"Your Aunt Brittany cut it. I think mom wanted to surprise you."_

_"Oh. Well, thanks for bringing it up here."_

_"You're welcome."_

_Barry scooted over, and she sat down next to him._

_"Your cousins are ass-holes."_

_His lips quirked upwards for a moment. They'd gotten into swearing lately when adults weren't around._

_"They really are."_

_For a long, while they were both quiet the sounds of the steady murmur of voices from down stairs, creaking floorboards as people moved through the house, the drone of the wind against the window panes filled the air. Iris studied the black velvet of her dress picking at bits of lint not sure where to begin but wishing things could go back to the way they were before Nora Allen had been killed._

_"I'm sorry about your cousins Barry, about everything with your dad." She'd already told him she was sorry about Nora dying and she was; she liked Nora. Mrs. Allen was warm, kind, she'd seen her be firm with Barry, but she'd never displayed the famous red-haired temper Iris heard so much about._

_"My dad did not kill my mom. He loves her."_

_"I know."_

_"Do you believe me though about The Man in Yellow?"_

_Iris didn't believe that Dr. Allen would suddenly stab his wife through the heart, but this man in yellow..._

_"The Man in Yellow is real Iris."_

_"Barry," she paused here unwilling to call her friend a liar, but her doubt was present in that one word._

_"I woke up, and everything felt strange, there so much static in the air. I didn't tell anyone this, but the water in my fish tank was floating up, defying gravity."_

_HIs voice was soft, far away. Iris shifted position facing him; Barry had never told her about that night. She'd heard from her dad, but that was it._

_"It was not normal. So I went looking for my mom and-" Barry paused here, and she could see tears in his eyes. Iris took his hand, held it, tight._

_"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.."_

_"But I want to." He looked at her now. "I want you to know."_

_She held his eyes a moment; there was a desperation there that started a strange nervous feeling in her stomach, she swallowed._

_"Okay, but will you eat Barry afterward?"_

_He stared at her a moment as if it had never occurred to him before nodding and wiping a hand across his eyes._

_"I found her in the living room in the middle of a lightning storm. The air was electric. My hair stood on end like when you get clothes from the dryer. Mom was crying; she screamed for me to run. The lighting was all around her, red and yellow and I was so scared."_

_His grip on her hand tightened, and Iris watched him riveted now. He didn't seem to see her at all._

_"There was a man in the storm. A man in yellow and I thought maybe he came right towards me, maybe. But then there was wind and leaves and fog, and it was cold, and I was outside. A police car came so I went with them and they brought me back to the house and mom was already..." Barry looked at her now; the far away look fading, tears rolling down stained cheeks._

_"Oh, Barry."_

_He wiped at his face with his free hand, mopping up tears with his sleeve._

_"They said I was twenty blocks away. I heard them; even they thought it was strange. I couldn't have run that far in bare feet. Something strange happened that night, and no one believes me. My dad didn't kill my mom. You don't think I'm lying or crazy do you? You have to believe me, Iris!"_

_There was desperation in his voice, his hand gripped her hers almost painfully and his eyes wide and intense pleaded with her to believe in him._

_Iris nodded slowly. A man in lighting didn't make any sense, but she knew Barry wouldn't lie to her and he didn't seem crazy. Everyone knew for a fact that Barry was twenty blocks away. The neighbors had seen strange lights, lightning even though there was no storm that night. Barry's story_ fit _those facts._

_"Yeah, Barry I do believe you."_

_He smiled then, eyes lighting with it, the first she'd seen in weeks and Iris couldn't help but smile back. And then Barry hugged her not those intense hugs he'd been giving her since his mom died, where he held onto her like he'd never let her go. This was friendly, gentle, what she was used to, the hugs that caused that peculiar flutter around her heart._

_"You have to eat now."_

_"Right."_

_He moved away from her and picked up the cake._

_If Barry's mom had been killed by a man in_ lightning _where did he come from and where did he go? She was too old to believe in stuff like Harry Potter or X-Men, but-_

_"I'm glad you're my best friend Iris."_

_His eyes didn't look as bright as they had when she'd told him she believed him, but the grimness in them was lessened, and she could see he was more relaxed now like he had just passed a test._

_"Me too Barry."_

_"Did you want some cake?"_

_"Mhmm."_

 

_Chapter VI:_ Little Red Rosettes

 

"Iris wake up. Can you wake up?

She opened her eyes and for a confused moment she thought Barry was staring down at her a tender expression on his face as he stroked her hair from her brow. But only for a second, Malcolm and Barry didn't look that much alike. Confused she drew her hand from his.

"What happened?" She asked taking in her old room. Malcolm sat beside her on the  bed. Cisco was sitting on the far end of the love seat and Caitlin was taping out a text message on her phone.

"You fainted," Caitlin Snow said voice soft and it all came back to her then.

"What are you still doing here?" She said coldly.

"I'm a doctor. You fainted, your pulse is a little slow. It's probably just exhaustion given the circumstances, but I'm not walking away from someone who just fainted no matter how angry they are."

"Iris I'm sure Cait was only trying to help," Malcolm spoke in a soft soothing voice that only served to irritate her.

"Well I don't want her help. " The rage she'd felt moments ago was gone, but that didn't mean she wanted to spend anymore time around Caitlin Snow than she had too.

Caitlin moved to stand beside the bed.  
"How many fingers am I holding up?"

Iris looked away unwilling to say a word.

"Come on Iris. She's only trying to help."

"The sooner I make sure you're alright the sooner I'll leave."

"Fine," she said too tired to argue."One."

"Can you tell me what day it is?"

"Tuesday July 10th."

"Full name?"

"Iris Anne Russell West."

"Good. Have you been eating?" Caitlin's tone softened ever so slightly.

"Not really."

The other woman nodded.

"And your sleep?" Her tone softened further, expression sorrowful and Iris felt a subtle reluctant softening of her own anger.

"No."

"I know. I know how hard it is." The words were nearly an undetectable whisper.

Iris looked at the other woman, the haunted expression in her eyes. She looked as if she did know and Iris' brow furrowed curiosity piqued in spite of herself.

"Try to eat, try to sleep. Its okay to see a doctor and get prescription for your appetite-

There were voices in the hall just then. A moment later the room was filled with her family: Francine, Joe, Wally and Linda.

"What happened?" Joe asked.

"We heard yelling." Francine put in.

Caitlin straightened up.

"Iris fainted from exhaustion. She should probably eat and rest."

"Baby girl." Joe said making his way to her bedside in a few quick strides, Francine right behind him.

Malcolm moved away to make room for her parents. He flashed her quick smile before making his way out the door, along with Caitlin and Cisco.

"I'm gonna finish making your plate honey." Francine squeezed her arm before starting toward the door. "Linda and Wally, come on."

"So you want to tell me what all this yelling at Caitlin was about?"

Iris pursed her lips, the rage she'd felt for Caitlin before she'd fainted seemed remote, distant somehow. She didn't quite know what to say to her father. Should she tell Barry's secret, should she tell him about the drugs? She started to speak to tell her father a lie, that he hadn't heard that, that it was nothing, but the truth came out instead. Barry was the Flash, Caitlin and Cisco were helping him, Caitlin had drugged him. She said it was to help him with the pain, but Barry would be alive if it hadn't been for Caitlin.

"Dad, did you know about Barry?"

"I suspected."

"Barry never told me he was The Flash. I guessed. I don't understand why didn't he tell me?" The feelings that had seemed remote a moment ago surged. Not sweeping like the sudden anger she'd felt for Caitlin, but a sense of betrayal bleeding out to taint everything she'd ever believed about Barry or their relationship..

"I wish I had confronted him about it."

"Why didn't you?"

"I don't- I don't know. I meant to at one point, but at first I didn't really believe it. Then I wanted him to tell me on his own and then I think maybe I was afraid, afraid to confront what it meant about our relationship that he kept this from me."

"Sweetheart you know that Barry loved you. We all know."

"I know I just I don't understand it and now I'll never get to ask him." Iris fiddled with her engagement ring. "I'll never understand that part of who he was or why he kept it from me in the first place." She felt the all too familiar prickle of tears and surprise that there could be any left.

"Sweetheart it's not something you can get answer on, don't let it eat at you."

"But how can't I think about it dad? Did you do that with mom?"

Joe was quiet for a moment.

"Honey the people who love us the most are the ones that can hurt us the most, but alotta time when they keep secrets or hurt us it's not about how much they love us or what they even think about us and more about their own problems."

"You're thinking about mom's depression?"

Joe nodded.

"Barry wasn't depressed though."

"He wasn't, but he had insecurities, fears just like the rest of us."

Iris twisted her ring not at all comforted by her father's words.

"Dad can you do something for me?"

"Of course sweetheart."

"Can you pull the file on the fire?"

"It was the first thing I did there wasn't anything in the ME's report that was unusual baby girl."

"But dad the ME would have thought this was a normal person overcome by smoke in an accidental fire, not The Flash. Can you look again please?"

"I thought you said it was this medication Caitlin made."

"Maybe, I don't know. Just look please"

"Of course sweetheart."

"Thanks dad."

There was a knock on the door just then.

"It's Francine."

"Here I come." Joe got up and went to the door.

Francine came in carrying a lunch tray and Joe shut the door behind her.

"Got your lunch right here."

"Thanks mom."

Iris sat up or tried to, the room spun as if she'd been drinking and she fell back against the bed, trembling.

"Sit up slow honey," her dad was at her side.

She tried again easing into sitting position under her parents' anxious gaze and Joe tucked a pillow behind her back as soon as she was upright.

"I'm not an invalid dad."

"Well you just fainted baby girl so you're going to have to deal with your father and mother fussing over you. Your mother and I are gonna take care of you."

"I know dad."

Francine settled the tray across her lap and Iris looked at her parents sitting side-by-side like old friends and something that felt like envy crawled over Iris' skin. Joe and Francine's divorce was ancient history. They'd worked through the enemity, the anger, the reprisals years ago and settled into something a friendship.

"Eat," Francine said.

Iris looked down at her lunch tray and felt her lips quirk upward for a second, the first time she'd wanted to smile since Barry died. Her mom had made her a plate of fried fish, spaghetti, cabbage with carrots and a slice of her mom's chocolate ganache cake with little red rosettes.

It was a slice of chocolate cake, with ganache frosting and little red rosettes, just like the one she and Barry had sat eating at his mother's wake all those years ago. Just like the one, her mother had made to comfort him, and it was the first thing to make her smile since Barry died.

 

_Chapter VII:_ In A Fairy's Garden

 

**_13 years ago_ **

_The surface of the water rippled, opaque and nearly black, wind stirring a ripple of eddies on the surface. Thirteen-year-old Iris West sat on a log beside the inlet. The copse was closed by trees. The ground covered by violets and other little plants that grew in patches. The afternoon sun, filtered by clouds casting a soft gray light._

_The frogs, crickets, and birds that had quieted with her arrival took up their chorus again. Iris listened to the animals, the wind rustling through the leaves, the quiet flow of water, and wished that she had brought a blanket so she could lie in the grass staring up at the overcast sky. The weatherman expected clear skies later that day. She didn't mind though; the soft, silvery clouds had their own quiet beauty._

"Did you know that Iris is considered to be at its most beautiful in the rain."

_Her mother had told her that one late, cloudy afternoon as they'd sat watching supposed that was why she had a soft spot for overcast days._

_In this quiet little copse, it was easy to forget that there was an expressway only half a mile away. Easy to forget Central City and the whole noisy world. The river with boat rides, Gray Pier, packed restaurants, a Ferris wheel, and even a stained glass museum. Even the park crowded with over a million people waiting for fireworks and vendors selling popular foods like grilled corn on the cob and turkey legs faded from existence._

_It was summer now, but when her mother had first brought her here in the spring, it had been covered with wildflowers in violet, yellow, blue, and pink, the trees bowing with blooms the size of her mother's hand. Lit with soft summer sunlight, to five-year-old Iris West, it had looked like a magical fairy's garden where anything could happen._

_A family of squawking ducks swam into view, mod, dad, and noisy ducklings following behind. They seemed to float on the water's surface, riding the gentle current with ease. They alighted on the opposite side of the inlet, waddling and ungraceful on land._

_The mom and dad nudged at the ducklings grooming them, and Iris frowned. Was it ducks or geese that mated for life? She threw a pebble into the water, and one of the ducks looked up from grooming their ducklings to squawk at her._

_"Sorry."_

_She poked her lips out and looked back up at the sky. The wind was picking up; the sun was starting to peek through the clouds in golden-slivery glints. The weatherman was probably right, clear skies for the fireworks._

_The family of ducks waddled off into the trees. In the silence that followed their departure, Iris heard the muffled sound of footsteps. Her hand moved to a large stick that she had picked up during her walk. That was the problem with isolated spots like this in the city, creeps._

_The creep emerged from the trees, and Iris felt her spirits lift._

_"Barry!"_

_He strode over to her as gangly and awkward as a baby giraffe in baggy cargo shorts and a stripped t-shirt._

_"Hey, Iris!"_

_He came and sat beside her on the tree._

_"Your dad is looking for you."_

_She started to get up, but his hand on her arm stopped her. Barry checked his watch._

_"I told your dad I'd find you. He won't send out the squad cars for another twenty minutes."_

_Iris rolled her eyes._

_"You weren't looking long, were you?"_

_Barry shook his head._

_"I figured you'd be here."_

_Something about those words warmed her._

_One morning when she was still five years old, Wally just two, her mother had woken her up and asked her if she wanted to go on an adventure._

_Of course, she'd said yes. Francine had gotten her dressed very quickly, and they slipped out of the house leaving Wally with Joe. They took an express bus downtown and strolled through Central City park to this out of the way spot, all of it very exciting and mysterious to Iris at that age. Then they'd walked to this little copse where Francine let her pick wild flowers._

_After that they'd listened to a few street musicians and strolled over to the Original House of Pancakes, not to be confused with gross IHOP. Iris had had strawberries and cream for the first time along with cherry crepes._

_The flowers were still pressed between the pages of a scrapbook that her mother must have, somewhere._

_She'd bought Barry here once a couple of years ago, in the fall._

_"I really need to come here in the spring."_

_"It's really pretty."_

_"Do you 'uh wanna talk about your mom?"_

_Iris sighed._

_"What's there to say? She went crazy and left."_

_"Iris!"_

_"But that's what happened. She stopped sleeping, checked herself into behavioral health for two weeks, came home, packed up her things and moved in with her sister."_

_"Parents get divorced."_

_Iris snorted for a reply._

_"This isn't like Tamika Myers. Her parents hated each other; everyone knows that." She drew her knees up to her chest. "This is different." Her voice was soft now. "We were happy; it doesn't make sense."_

_"I guess not," Barry rubbed her back._

_"All of a sudden, after six years of being ok she just turned moody and distant and distracted." Iris shook her head. "It doesn't make sense."_

_Francine West had had her first psychotic break shortly after Joe's partner had been shot and killed in the line of duty. She'd seemed ok at first helping the widow and her children, but then the widow had moved out of state to stay with family in Coast City. Her first episode had followed not long after._

_The mother Iris West had known for the first seven years of her life had transformed into someone else. No matter how neat and clean seven-year-old Iris kept herself, no matter how neat her room or well done her homework was none of it pleased the distant, moody person her mother had become._

_It had taken a year of medications and hospitalizations to get Francine back something resembling normal. Weekly visits to a therapist along with regular medication kept her grounded in reality for the past six years. They'd even figured out that the initial episode had been partially triggered by her husband coming so close to being killed._

_They'd taken in Barry after Henry Allen's bail had been revoked. Francine had doted on him while he grieved his mother and still made time for her own children. Once Henry had been acquitted she'd been helping father and son readjust. Francine had been well._

_"You miss her."_

_"It's not the same seeing her at Aunt Loretta's house. She's got her kids and husband. They don't want us over there all weekend." Iris shook her head._

_"It takes time to adjust. Dad's been out four months, and we still haven't really adjusted." Barry threw a pebble into the water with a frown, and it was Iris' turn to worry._

_"How is your dad?"_

_He didn't say anything just tugged at the grass absently, a distant look on his face._

_"Barry."_

_Iris prodded him with a gentle hand on his arm, and he looked up then, a tired look in his green eyes for just a second and then his mouth flicked up the corners, a forced version of his familiar smile._

_"He's alri- no he's not." The boy shook his head. "He's drinking more; he was hungover this morning. He hasn't been to the grocery store, and we're running out of everything."_

_"Oh my God." Iris stared at him with wide eyes. "Barry do you have anything to eat? We can…"_

_"There is stuff in the pantry. Your mom stocked it pretty good when she was coming over; there is even some food in the freezer, but I don't know what to do."_

_Iris stared at him worry for her best friend bubbling. She knew Henry Allen had problems, but this was really bad. In the course of a year, Henry had lost his wife, his practice, his reputation. He owned his house outright, and he must have money saved since he didn't work. But what was going to happen to Barry?_

_"We can tell my dad-"_

_"No! No! Now way."_

_Barry glared at her a hard look in his eyes that she had never seen and Iris drew back._

_"Geeze. I came out here to cheer you up, and we're talking about my drunk dad. Listen," Barry's face softened. "Don't tell your dad ok.I'll manage, just don't tell him."_

_"I don't Barry. I'm worried about-"_

_"Please don't. I don't want my dad to get in trouble."_

_His green eyes pleaded with her and Iris gave in with a nod._

_"I won't say anything."_

_"Promise?"_

_"I promise."_

_"Thanks." Barry smiled and fished for something in his pocket. "So operation cheer Iris up."_

_"Barry you don't have to-"_

_"But look I'm prepared and everything." Barry pulled several Laffy Taffy wrappers from his pocket._

_"Really."_

_"They're corny, but you always laugh. So let me see."_

_Iris watched him shift through the wrappers._

_"Alright. How do you get a baby alien to sleep?"_

_"I don't know."_

_"You rocket."_

_Her lips quirked upward at the corners just a bit._

_"What has no legs, but can do a split?"_

_"That's an easy one, a banana."_

_"You're right, but this one is better. How do you communicate with a fish?"_

_She thought a moment before shrugging._

_"You drop a line."_

_Iris actually laughed at that one and Barry laughed with her. They sat together for several minutes reading and laughing at Laffy Taffy jokes. Iris let Barry take her mind off her mother. After all, there wasn't anything she could do about, and Barry hadn't meant it this way, but his situation with his dad was so much more messed up than hers._

_Her mom was sick, but she got help and medication, and Iris could see her, call her. Nora Allen was gone forever, and Henry Allen was not being much of a dad. And here Barry was trying to cheer her up. Iris felt herself grow warm._

_She studied her best friend for a moment. The afternoon sun picked up hints of red and gold in his dark hair; it flooded his eyes so she could see flecks of gold amidst the green. He was wearing that broad, excited smile that invited you to join his humor._

_Barry read the punchline of another joke, and Iris let herself laugh loud and free._

_"There we are." Barry grinned at her proudly, and their eyes met and held as her laughter abated. Iris got that strange swollen feeling around her heart, and Barry turned pink._

_"We should probably go meet your dad."_

_"Oh yeah."_

_Barry got to his feet and held out his hand to her. Iris took it and let him pull her in one easy move, his grip surprisingly firm and secure._

_"Come on." He gave her hand a comforting squeeze. Hand-in-hand they started back to the park, and Iris promised herself she would always care of Barry the way he took care of her._

_"I know you've been trying to get your dad to get you a cell phone for your birthday."_

_"Yeah."_

_"Tell him you need it to call your mom."_

_"That's a great idea, Barry."_

 

_Chapter 8:_ Six Weeks

 

Iris surveyed Barry's apartment. It wasn't like the cozy two bedroom place she shared with her best friend, Linda. Barry's place was spacious with hardwood floors, recessed studio lights, bay windows, two bedrooms and a nice long hall. Light and air flowed through it making it an easy, cheerful place to be in.

It was beautiful She'd helped Barry with some of the decorating, creating a whole pin board of ideas when working on her thesis got to be too much, helping him select plants, art and rugs. Iris felt as comfortable here as she felt in her own place, even now.

Now she surveyed the space considering the chores that needed to be done.

There was a stack of mail, about a week's worth, sitting on the table next to the door; his answering machine flashed seven messages -only Barry Allen had a home phone and an answering machine in 2015 and his plants needed watering. She kept her eyes away from the mantle and the far living room wall. Both were decorated with pictures of them, pictures of a life that was over.

After the wake, Linda had brought her here. Drunk and exhausted Iris had collapsed into Barry's bed, falling asleep in seconds. She'd woken to a dry mouth, headache, a glass of water and two aspirins on the bedside table. She'd gulped down the water, taken the aspirins and listened to the sound of Linda getting ready for work.

When the other woman had knocked on the bedroom door, Iris had feigned sleep until she left.

Linda was already doing plenty by staying here at Barry's, with her. She didn't want to distract the fledgling journalist from work as well, the other woman hadn't even completed a full year at CCPN. Iris didn't want her best friend worrying or distracted at work, not at her dream job.

Iris picked up the stack of mail. Electric bill, gas bill, phone bill, junk, junk, she froze at the next:

A large, thick, creamy colored envelope addressed with a fancy curling script and wedding bells, addressed to Mr. Barry Allen and Ms. Iris West. The return address brought a lump to her throat: Canon Photographers. Her hands started to shake, and she dropped the envelope into the wastebasket.

She knew there were appointments that would have to be canceled, but she couldn't deal with that now.

Instead, she hit the play button his answering machine.

"Hi, this message is for Mr. Barry Allen, I'm calling from the Garfield Conservatory. You contacted us about hosting your wedding on May 12th, 2016-" Iris hit the fast forward button as tears sprang to her eyes. She sighed with relief when the next message was about a dental appointment; she could call and cancel that. She wrote down the number, and the third message started. Another wedding photographer, the message was short, finished before she could hit fast forward. The fourth was also about the wedding, as was the fifth and the sixth and even the seventh.

Iris found herself rooted to the spot, listening as friendly, chipper people offered to help arrange a future that no longer existed. Listened as she started to tremble, as her grief surged, heart breaking with this fresh reminder of future charred beyond recognition in a matter of hours. Each message calling up the agony sitting just below the surface of a skin stretched too thin. Pulling at her until it poured forth in a keening wail.

They had both been eager to plan the wedding. The date, that was easy, May 12th the date of their prom, their first kiss, the day she'd confessed she still loved him seven years later and he said he'd still felt the same. The day they'd come back to this very same apartment and made love for the first time, the day he proposed. The perfect date for a spring wedding.

"Oh God."  _Why had they waited so long? Why had she ever thought it was ok to delay until after college? She could have switched schools, canceled her gap year, finished grad school faster. Why had she ever waited? Why had she ever believed she had time?_

"Oh, Barry."

She sobbed his name and sank to floor, one word expressing so much grief,

Francine came by with lunch and found Iris asleep on the floor exhausted by her misery. She let her mother coax her into eating a meal she barely tasted and then bed. The last thing she heard as she drifted into sleep was her mother's voice, heavy with sadness as she made the first of many phone calls.

The next, two weeks passed in a haze of grief. She spent more time alone in Barry's apartment than any of her family and friends wanted. She couldn't work. The thought of her meta-human blog her ill. She couldn't imagine putting together a pitch, contacting magazine publishers or looking for story ideas. Her mind couldn't fathom it. After a week she tried going to Jitters for work, but Barry's ghost was there waiting for her.

She could see him, sitting at his favorite table, savoring the warmth of the late afternoon sun on a fall day as it warmed his lean frame, a Flash and apple turnover sitting on the table before him. The same Barry she had always known, long and lean with the same dark hair and green eyes, but a man rather than a boy, handsome and charming,  _her man._

Barry's ghost was everywhere in Jitters. She couldn't just curl up with her memories and let them hurt her if she was there to work. Iris never made it past the front door.

She'd never known that a life could be completely consumed by pain. She'd scoffed at the idea of dying from heartbreak, but when you woke sick and crying every morning spent the day holding back tears, went to bed the same and woke to do it all again, well it didn't seem so impossible.

She wore his favorite pullover, slept in sheets rapidly losing the mingling of their two scents, and tried not to cry. Linda spent the nights there with her, being a true best friend and Wally came to visit during the day when he could, Joe came by in the evenings.

At the end of two weeks, Henry came and packed up Barry's things. Iris wanted to help, but she couldn't. It had been  _Barry's_  apartment, but their home as a couple.

They'd first made love in his apartment. She could still recall his lips, his touch, the flush of heat through her body as his hands moved over her skin, the unexpected, but not unpleasant stretch of him inside and the way her pleasure had rung through the halls unmatched by anything she'd experience before enriched -not by any special expertise, but by the depth of feeling they had for each other.

On Saturday mornings they cuddled on his couch and plotted their future together. In the evenings after a long day at Jitters, she'd be at the kitchen table writing pitches for articles. When she felt too tired, too drained to write Barry was there to keep her company or bring her a cup of coffee to keep her going.  _"The world news Iris West's voice."_ He'd said that to her after a series of especially painful rejections.

They'd spent a weekend in his kitchen making ravioli from scratch, pasta and all. It hadn't been perfect, but it had been made with love.

She could sit at his dining room table, close her eyes and see his warm smile, eyes crinkling at the corners with happiness. There had been times when she'd teased him about the crow's feet destined to grow around those eyes, but she loved that smile.

She couldn't help Henry pull it all apart.

So instead Henry sent several boxes of Barry's thing to the apartment she shared with Linda.

Francine came by daily, made sure she ate and showered and she did eat and shower because she didn't want her mother to fuss. She watched What Dreams May Come and cried. She watched The Constant Gardener and felt a cathartic longing when Justin Quayle was finally executed by the same men who'd murdered his wife. She watched Singing in the Rain hoping to feel Barry's presence and was angry when she didn't.

Iris fought with her mother that day.

She uploaded every picture of Barry from her phone to her computer, sent them to the drug store to be printed with duplicate copies. She backed up every picture she had of him or the two of them together to an external hard drive. She had four voicemails from him, Iris recorded them into one long message and played them on loop until she fell asleep at night. She did all this while wearing his favorite shirt and wrapped in his too big bathrobe though his scent had long since faded from them.

When she went to the drug store to pick up her pictures, Iris dressed in all black –not that it meant anything anymore- and glared at everyone who spoke to her or looked at her.

The cashier at the drugstore, a cheerful young woman with a pleasant smile, commented that the guy in her pictures was cute and asked if Barry was her fiance.

"He's dead," Iris growled before snatching her pictures and felt some satisfaction at the devastation on her face. She tried to take off her engagement ring, put it on a chain when she got home, but couldn't.

She spent a lot of time asleep and chalked it up to depression.

She spoke to her family and friends, but they all seemed so unbothered Iris kept her misery to herself. She talked to Henry and sometimes her mother. Henry, because he was about as miserable as she was and she couldn't bring him down any further. She talked to her mother because well, her mother was a therapist and had been depressed for years herself.

She received a card from Malcolm after two weeks telling her to hang in there, and he called her once a week just to see how she was. He didn't try to pressure her into doing anything or being anyway. He just checked on her, it was nice. She didn't mind talking to him about Barry. He and Barry had been casual acquaintances. She couldn't hurt him with her memories, unlike Wally who thought of Barry like a brother or Joe who'd been delighted when they'd learned that Barry would officially become a part of their family.

A 30,000 check came from the life insurance company. Francine paid her bills out of it.

Cisco appeared on her doorstep. His hair lank, face gaunt, circles under his eyes -heavy and black, mouth a tight miserable line. Guilt surged, he'd meant what he'd said when he called Barry best friend. He'd found some of Barry's things at the lab and decided to bring them over.

She invited him to have a seat, talk to her about Barry. Listened to him talk about The Flash and enjoyed it, memories that weren't hers, memories that didn't hurt.

"He was my good friend," Cisco finished.

"Best friend," she corrected gently and was surprised to see him smile. "Caitlin really was just trying to help wasn't she?"

Iris looked away as she asked that.

"Yeah. Barry would be in a lot of pain sometimes, broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, lacerations. He wasn't in any danger, but it was hard to watch-"

"-I remember."

And she did, Barry unexpectedly insisting that they stay in some nights, or cuddling up to him only to have him wince away and blame any injury on clumsiness. She'd almost started to worry and then it mysteriously it stopped.

Guilt washed over her.

"I owe Caitlin an apology."

"She'll understand."

She wrote Caitlin a long email apologizing for taking her anger out on the other woman.

Caitlin wrote back:  **'My fiance died in the particle accelerator accident. I know how hard it is, I know how you feel.'**

The guilt she'd been feeling surged at that response. Caitlin had known Barry for two years, been his main doctor during the coma, she would never hurt Barry. Cisco and Caitlin really did just want to help. The guilt was a pleasant distraction from her grief and Iris started planning something she could do to thank the two scientists.

At the end of that first month, Iris looked at herself in the mirror and saw her chin and cheekbones standing out at sharp angles, her color ashen, and hair that looked like straw. She'd been sleeping too much, not eating enough, not exercising and not getting enough sunlight.

She considered doing a face mask, deep conditioning her hair, taking a walk. She looked like she was falling apart. No wonder her mother came to see her every day.

Iris told herself to shower, dress, do that face mask and a miserable angry part of demanded to know why and then proceeded to tear through every answer that she had. Reminding her that there was no point, that nothing felt good or right anymore. Barry was dead and there was nothing she could do about it. Making herself look perfect wouldn't bring Barry back, just like it hadn't helped her mother when she was a kid. Barry would always be dead and she would always be miserable.

By the time that miserable angry part of her was done Iris was crying as if she'd only just found out. She put on Barry's favorite top, wrapped herself in his robe, plugged in her earbuds crawled into bed and put on her recording of his voice.

She tried it again in two weeks and actually managed to eat breakfast, which she threw-up. The same thing happened the next day and the day after that. The third day she threw up her lunch too. When she heaved up the breakfast bar Linda coaxed her into eating on the fourth morning the other woman looked at her with a worried frown.

"Iris, I don't know how else to say this so I'm just going to spit it out. Are you pregnant?"

"What?"

"You've been throwing up, you're tired all the time and you look terrible."

"Gee thanks. I'm just nauseated from not eating right."

"You haven't been in our stash." The two friends shared a collection of sanitary napkins, tampons, and panty liners, Linda was right she hadn't been in it. Barry had been gone for more than a month and she hadn't had a period.

"I'm stressed, stress changes your period."

Linda took a deep breath.

"Let me see your phone."

It took them several minutes to find her mobile. She'd let the battery run down and misplaced the charger. Linda went into the living room and plugged it in there setting it down on the coffee table.

"Linda I'm sure it's nothing. I don't want you to be late for work." Iris sat down on the couch, and Linda sat down beside her.

"I already told them I was coming in late today."

"Alright," Iris said with a sigh.

"I know how unhappy you are. I see it, but if you are pregnant you have to face it sooner or later and sooner is always better than late with pregnancy"

"Except I'm not. We were always careful; we always used condoms."

"You know condoms aren't 100% and I know you aren't on the pill."

"Well, we didn't just use condoms. I tracked my period; we didn't, you know, have intercourse if I could get pregnant."

"Never, not even once?"

"No, we-"

-Except for May 12th, the day Barry proposed had fallen into that fertile period. She'd wanted him so badly. They'd used condoms, but as Linda had pointed out, they weren't 100%.

"Oh my God. Oh my God." Iris pressed her fingers to her lips.

"What is it?"

"My period was already a few days late, before- before everything. I-I just forgot about it."

Linda put an arm around her shoulders, and they both stared at her phone waiting. When that first sliver of red showed in the battery, Linda snatched up the phone powering it on, and Iris gripped her friend's arm.

It had been a month and a half since Barry...and she had already been late. That was two and half-months. Stress didn't do that.

She thought back over the past six weeks, the morning nausea, the constant state of exhaustion, her breast- she touched them gently now over her shirt- they were tender...Iris felt a strange crawling sensation in the back of her head, and her shoulders began to rise, meeting the heavy sense of dread settling over her.

Her phone finished booting, and she watched Linda's thumb come down on the little flower icon for the period tracker.

"76 days late."

Iris felt her eyes go wide and then she started to cry. Linda's arms came around her around her.

"It will be ok. We're going to take care of you."

At that moment Iris West felt many things, but none of them was ok.

 

_Chapter IX:_ Remnants

 

Medical insurance was expensive; pregnancy test were cheap. She'd bought three and peed on all of them with the same result: +, yes, =. Once was chance, twice was coincidence, third time was conspiracy. She was pregnant, Iris felt her stomach twist and leapt off the toilet so she could empty it.

Linda had volunteered to stay with her, but Iris had insisted her best friend go to work. Her mom would be by for her daily lunch visit in a couple of hours; she could manage until then. There was Flash related business to consider, and she hadn't talked to Linda or anyone about that yet. Barry was a meta-human, what If the baby was too? Caitlin and Cisco had been Barry's doctors. Well, Caitlin was anyway.

They'd told her to call if she needed anything; then, of course, she'd called Caitlin a frigid, murdering bitch. The other woman had accepted her apology, but it's not like they were friends. Still, this was too important, regardless of how the other woman might respond she needed to be smart. Iris picked up her phone and typed up a quick text.

**I.W.: 'You said I could call or text if I needed anything.'**

**C.S.: "What's going on?'**

**I.W. 'I think I'm pregnant.'**

**For several agonizing minutes, there was no reply.**

**C.S.: 'Can you come to the lab?'**

**I.W. 'Y.'**

**C.S.: 'See you in 20 minutes?'**

**I.W.: 'On my way.'**

* * *

"Store-bought tests are pretty accurate, and you're over two months late. If you are pregnant, we can detect the presence of the fetus with an ultrasound, but I want to run a few test here at the lab just to make sure your hormone levels are normal as well as check your iron levels, blood sugar and for a few other things." Caitlin explained all of this as she drew Iris' blood. "I'm going to run down a list of first-trimester pregnancy symptoms. You've got the big two, but let's see what else is going on. Have you had any breast tenderness?"

Iris nodded.

"Headaches?"

"Yes."

"Weight loss?"

"I hadn't been eating, so I thought-" She shook her head as Caitlin finished drawing her blood.

Caitlin continued down the list, Iris' sense of dread growing with each affirmative. The period tracker, the store bought pregnancy test the could both be wrong. Caitlin Snow, a medical doctor, a geneticist, brilliant enough to work at STARLabs with Harrison Wells was confirming the pregnancy with each question.

"You know it's perfectly normal to miss these symptoms most women do or chalk them up to stress, tiredness other things," Caitlin said mistaking her growing anxiety for embarrassment perhaps.

Iris nodded. She'd never really known what to think about Caitlin, but there was no judgment in her expression. Iris appreciated that she couldn't deal with judgment under the circumstances.

Caitlin moved to the machines in the lab, slotting the blood samples for analysis and Iris looked around at the equipment.

"Caitlin, what's going to happen to this place?"

"With Barry gone it reverted to Henry. He's probably going to sell everything STARLabs never fully recovered from the accident."

"Right, but that means you're out of a job."

"Yeah, but with Barry gone-" She sighed not bothering to finish the sentence.

"Can I ask you something, something about Ronnie?"

Sadness crept into the other woman's eyes, but after a moment she nodded.

Iris took a deep breath.

"After Ronnie- if you had found out you were pregnant, would you- I don't feel as if- would you have kept it?"

The other woman's eyes widened ever so slightly, and her mouth formed an oh' of surprise before her face settled into a thoughtful frown.

"It hurt so much losing Ronnie the way that I did. I was so miserable and drained and depressed and lost. In one moment everything that we had planned was gone. I didn't have anything for anyone. I mean Iris you were here every day, almost. I saw you sometimes crying over Barry and I couldn't- I thought I should try and reach out to you, but I couldn't because losing him, losing Ronnie took everything from me back then." Caitlin shook her head. "I like to think I was a good person, but I couldn't find five minutes to offer comfort to someone who was going through something so similar to me. I can't imagine trying to care for a child, an infant, someone so needy while feeling that."

Iris nodded not wanting to interrupt the other woman's thoughts.

"But," Caitlin took a deep breath. "It lessens or perhaps you get stronger after carrying the weight of I don't know. But I think- you and Barry wanted a family, right?"

"Yeah, once I was more established in my career."

"Right. I think that once it doesn't hurt so much, once you get used to him being gone- and I know it doesn't seem like it, but you will. I think this child could make you so happy. I think you will be so glad and grateful to see Barry again in this child that you couldn't imagine it any other way." Caitlin's words were a bare husky whisper as she finished and the other woman looked away dabbing at her eyes.

Her own grief stirred at the strength of emotion emanating from the other woman and Iris reached out to her giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you, Caitlin."

The other woman smiled, faint and watery and both women looked up at the squeak of Cisco's gym shoes on the floor. He strode into the lab, dark hair bouncing, twizzler in hand.

"What's the emergency?"

Caitlin turned back to the blood sample she'd taken.

"Iris is pregnant."

* * *

Grainy black and white, two little sacs with two barely human blobs floating in them. Despite how strange the fetuses looked, almost alien, they had everything they needed to turn into two unique people all –was it 47 chromosomes, 46- everything they needed if she simply let them. Half of Barry, half of herself growing and thriving all this time without her knowledge. In addition to the picture, Caitlin had written a prescription for several pre-natal vitamins.

Iris sat in her car in the empty STARLabs parking lot. Caitlin and Cisco had both offered to drive her home, but she needed some time to herself, time to think.

Both Cisco and Caitlin were both concerned about the speedster metabolism and what that might mean for the pregnancy. Cisco was already formulating a high-calorie nutrient-dense snack bar for her in case she needed it.

Caitlin was also concerned about her iron and calcium levels. In addition to the supplements, the geneticist wanted her to eat more leafy greens, start getting three square meals a day and exercising. In short, Caitlin wanted her to start taking care of herself.

A strange tingling ache started in the back of her head, and Iris could feel her shoulders rising. Just when she was at her least, her most vulnerable more was being piled on. She had to suffer all of this unhappiness and take care of two other people somehow when she could barely care for herself. She wasn't ready for this.

Iris considered Caitlin's words, the idea that in a few years these children would make her happy. That Barry would come back into her life through their smiles or their eyes or their sense of humor made so much sense, and yet all she felt was as if she were collapsing under the weight of it.

Iris fished her phone out of her purse. She called her dad, got voice mail and called her mother.

"Mom?"

"Honey, what's wrong?"

"Can you come over?"

"I have a session with a patient starting in ten minutes sweetheart. Can you give me an hour-and-a-half?"

She wanted to say "no, I need you now.", but her mother was already doing so much for her.

"Oh- ok." Somehow she forced the word around the lump in her throat.

"Iris, are you sure you're alright?"

She took a tremulous, breath determined to hold out for 90 minutes.

"I-I can manage an hour and a half; you go work mom. I'll see you at my apartment."

"Ok honey. I love you."

"I love you, two mom."

Caitlin put the date of conception around May 12th, the night Barry proposed to her, one year to the date she'd told him she was in love with him. She wasn't surprised. May 12th was a special day for them, and Barry had been so different when they'd gotten back to his apartment, so unrestrained. Iris had always enjoyed their lovemaking, but several months into their relationship she'd started to realize Barry was holding himself back.

He hadn't that night. He'd seemed so much more himself, and something had happened at the end something that had to be related to his powers. She'd been too drowsy with satisfaction to ask him about it, too happy to care.

It was the closest they'd ever been.

She'd forgotten to mention it the next morning. Told herself she would talk to him about it later.

_Somehow later never came._

Iris crumpled the ultra-sound and tossed it onto the passenger as the flood of tears came again.

It wasn't fair, if Barry had lived they would have been so happy.

 

_Chapter X:_ Final Gits

 

Iris sat in her car in shaking, sick to her stomach unable to move. It was only 11:30 am, she couldn't sit in her apartment for the next hour-and-a-half waiting for her mother, without thinking.  _Thinking about how she wasn't ready to be pregnant, how she didn't want a family without Barry, how she didn't have a job or medical insurance, but this was her only chance to have any family with Barry._

She needed-

With trembling hands, she picked up her phone and called, Linda: voicemail, Wally: voicemail, her dad was at a crime scene. Why had she told Linda to go to work?

She threw the phone into the passenger seat next to the ultrasound.

"Alright, you can just go for a walk or something."

Her phone rang then, Malcolm Thawne's name flashing on her screen.

"Malcolm!" Relief flooded her at the sound of his friendly voice.

"Hey, are you ok?"

"No!" Iris said in a husky whisper.

"What's going on? I can come over. In fact, I'm on my way right now."

"No, you don't have to-"

"-Too late I'm on my way. The good thing about working for yourself is that you can take off whenever you want."

"Ok."

"Where are you?"

"Sitting in my car in front of my apartment."

"Are you gonna go inside?"

"No."

"Well, I'm about twenty minutes away from you so sit tight."

"I will. Can you stay on the phone with me?"

"Sure, sure. I'm in the car now ok. I'm putting you on speaker."

"Can you- can you tell me about what's going on with you? How are things at Thawne Tech?"

Malcolm was the owner of a tech company startup. Nothing sold directly to the public, but batteries for phones, laptops, and other portable devices every device using them cast a soft blue-tinged light.

Iris listened to Malcolm talk about his newest product, a new battery that would hold up to 20 hours of power for portable devices. Focusing on the tech talk and how he planned to market it, was a sufficient distraction. Iris kept her attention on Malcolm, asking questions to keep her thoughts away from the crumpled ultrasound resting in the passenger seat beside her until he was taping on her car window.

Feeling still more relieved Iris stepped out of her car and her breath caught. She hadn't been thinking about how much he looked like Barry when he'd insisted he'd come to her. Now she stared at him seeing the similarities. The same long slim build, dark hair, nearly identical peaks in their brows, she swallowed hands flexing at her wasn't smart.

"Iris," He looked her eyes full of concern a frown so like Barry's on his face. And then he did that thing that Barry did he reached out her cupping her face. "Are you ok?"

Without thinking she threw herself into his arms.

* * *

She'd been working at Jitters for about a week when Malcolm Thawne walked in. For a confused moment, she'd thought he was Barry and nearly hugged him in greeting as she always did with her best friend.

_"I wish I was this Barry, with a beautiful woman like you for a girlfriend."_

Barry had only recently broken up with Patty at that point and in spite of their agreement to get together after college if their feeling remained the same neither had brought it up since she'd changed majors. When Malcolm had asked her she had said yes.

She'd liked him; they'd even gone out on a few dates until Linda had forced her to admit that her interest in Malcolm was due almost entirely to his strong resemblance to Barry and her fear that Barry no longer had the same feelings for her.

Now sitting across from him at a little french cafe, outside enjoying a mild August afternoon. She focused on the differences between the two men, Malcolm's brown eyes, the cleft in his chin the width and length of his nose.

"How are you holding up?"

"I've been better."

"You thinking about going back to work?" Malcolm took a bite of his sandwich.

"I don't know. I have to eventually, but I'm just not motivated."

"I lost a good friend of mine a few years back, it's not the same of course he added hurriedly, but it takes something out of you."

"Yeah, it does." She said softly.

"If you don't need the money I don't see why you should go back to work right away. You had a whole life planned, and now that plan is it's gone, you need to time to regroup." He took a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah, but long unemployment gaps don't look good on resumes." Iris sipped her tea and broke off a piece of her croissant.

Malcolm waved a dismissing hand.

"If you ever need to you can always come work at Thawne Tech. I'll make sure you have everything you need."

"Thanks, Malcolm." Iris smiled just a bit then comforted by that offer and Malcolm smiled back eyes disappearing into crescents and crinkling at the corners. Her heart lurched, he looked so much like Barry at that moment.

He leaned forward then, covering her hand with his, voice warm and soft.

"Do you want to talk about what had you so upset when I called earlier?"

"I'm pregnant." The words came out before she could stop them and Iris felt her eyes widen. She hadn't meant to tell him to just blurt that out, but he'd looked so much like Barry at that moment.

"Oh."

He leaned back, withdrawing his hand from hers.

"I'm sorry Malcolm I didn't mean-"

She didn't see the subtle tightening of his jaw, hands clenching into fist under the table.

"Um-" His phone rang just then.

"Malcolm?"

"I think I'd better take this. Excuse me, Iris." He got up and left the table, and Iris sat back annoyed with herself.

She didn't know what she was going to do, but telling Malcolm had not been part of the plan. She nibbled her croissant the tender, flaky pastry practically melting in her mouth it was so soft. Iris munched her croissant it seemed to be just what she needed for she devoured it in seconds and was thinking of getting another, even a box to go when Malcolm came striding back to the table brisk and businesslike still on the phone.

"I have to go. I can take you back to your car, but I need to leave now."

"Is there time for me to get a dozen of these croissants from up front?"

He considered a moment.

"Of course." He said with a smile and Iris forced herself to look away from him.

Iris got her croissants while Malcolm settled the bill. He hurried her to his car still on the phone. Unable to help herself she listened. A battery had exploded in a laptop; someone had been hurt. There were concerns over whether or not Thawne Tech would be liable if the battery were faulty if there had been negligence. The call ended just before he pulled into the parking spot behind her car.

"That doesn't sound good."

"No," he didn't look at her and Iris frowned. He hadn't looked at her once since returning to the table.

"Malcolm-"

"I really need to take care of this," he said finally looking at her. "I'm sorry Iris. I'm a jerk. This thing with this battery is an emergency."

He gave her hand a squeeze, got out of the car then and went around to her side to open the door and helped her out.

They stood a moment on the tree-lined street in front of her apartment building.

"Thanks, Malcolm for coming and spending sometime with me."

His face softened then.

"Of course Iris we're friends. I'll call you sometime this evening. I know you've got a lot on your mind."

He gave her a quick hug and stood outside his car, waiting until she was the vestibule of her apartment building before getting in and taking off. Confused Iris headed upstairs. It was almost one o'clock her mother would be here any minute.

* * *

 

"I brought you some lunch, a nice big salad, and some Boston Market, nice and bland since the buffalo wings were too much for you."

"Thanks, mom."

Iris took the salad recalling Caitlin's admonish to eat more leafy greens. She'd only eaten one croissant at the restaurant.

They ate lunch and Iris half listened while Francine talked about this psychiatrist conference she was attending next month and then her volunteer work before finally sharing some juicy celebrity gossip. Boston Market was bland, but she ate it and liked it, especially since it didn't turn her stomach unlike the scent of the buffalo wings Francine had brought over yesterday. She wondered suddenly if the rest of her favorite spicy foods would cause the same reaction she didn't want to go seven months without her favorite coconut curry, or seafood from Marvalla's. When they'd done eating Francine collected the take-out containers and threw them away wiping down the table before sitting back down.

Iris got up and moved to the couch and Francine joined her.

"Sorry I couldn't come by earlier."

"That's ok Malcolm kept me company."

"Oh," Francine sniffed.

Iris rolled her eyes her parents had never cared for Malcolm.

"Are you gonna tell me what's going on?"

Iris felt her shoulders working themselves up higher and forced them back down.

"Somethings happened," she said looking away. "I'm not sure what do."

"Well honey whatever's happened you can talk to me about it."

Francine stroked her arm and Iris took a deep breath.

"I know. I should probably just spit it out."

Francine looked at her expectantly.

"I'm pregnant, two and a half months, twins."

"Oh, and you're not happy." The older woman sighed.

"How could I be? Their father is- is gone. I don't have a job or health insurance, twins are expensive, and I'm so unhappy, mom." She shook her head. "I don't think I can do this." The last came out in a whine. "What am I gonna do?"

"Oh, sweetheart come here."

Francine put an arm around her shoulder and Iris needing her mother's closeness more than anything right now rested her head in her mother's lap.

"I love him so much, mom."

"I know. I remember when you brought him home, lil' skinny white boy with big eyes. He turned beet red whenever you smiled at him."

Iris smiled perhaps her first genuine smile in weeks.

"He grew into such a man, mom."

"And he loved you with all his heart," Francine said those words with a soft voice.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this." Iris' voice was soft. "I don't- I don't want to do this without him."

"Well you know you don't have to, we can call Planned Parenthood."

Iris stared at the wood grain of the coffee table. Francine had given voice to the thought in her head: she didn't have to.

"But this is my only chance to have even a part of the family we wanted."  _The last thing that Barry would ever give her._

"Well, now it's a conundrum."

Iris rolled her eyes.

"You know what I haven't heard from you about this Iris is what you want."

"Is this therapy mom I'm getting now?"

Francine chuckled. "Maybe a little your mom-mom is biased."

"Is she?" Iris sat up.

"Yes cause she would be delighted to have a grandbaby. Little hands and little feet and they smell so sweet, but therapy-mom just wants you to be happy so you'd better have therapy mom."

"But you'd be delighted?"

"Of course and so would your father. You could move into the condo with me or move in with your dad at the house. You've got a family that would be so happy to help and Henry," Francine's smile broadened. "You'd restore his faith in goodness."

Iris didn't quite know what to say to that.

"But Iris honey it's not about what the rest of us want or even what other people think is right or wrong. It's about what you want. It's about what would make you happy. What do you want sweetheart? Do you want to have these babies?"

Fear flooded her at the thought.

"I'm scared."

"And when has that ever been a good reason not to do anything? You were scared to live a summer abroad, but you liked it so much you stayed a year. You were scared to transfer to Columbia, but you did that too. You were scared to tell Barry how you felt about him remember?"

She nodded.

"But mom I don't have money or a job."

"Don't even worry about that sweetheart. I'm making plenty of money from my practice. Of all the things you have to worry about don't even let money be a factor. I got you."

"Caitlin thinks I should keep them."

"You and Caitlin are friends now?"

"I was wrong."

Francine nodded.

"Ok. Her fiance died in the accident."

"Oh, poor thing. Helping Barry must have meant a lot to her."

"Yeah," Iris said thoughtfully. "Well she said that she wouldn't have wanted to be pregnant right after Ronnie passed, but that it would hurt less over time and that I would be happy about them, but mom, don't some people stay stuck in their grief for like decades."

"In my experience, those people have nothing else in their lives to make them happy. There is usually something else besides their loss contributing to their grief some other trauma, they have no idea how to deal with their grief, and they become stuck, They get used to being stuck, and they stop letting other things reach out to them to make them happy. But that is so rare sweetheart. There is a part of you right now that feels like it might somehow be a betrayal of Barry's memory, but this will hurt less over time, and you will be happy."

"You don't think there is some love that is special?"

"All love is special. There was something unique in what you had with Barry the way he was a part of your life for so long from such a young age, the way our families integrated, but you can come to grips with this and you will."

Iris settled her head back into her mother's lap, not at all sure she believed her.

* * *

Iris told herself that she didn't know what she was going to do, but somehow she got out of bed the next morning, showered, munched a few crackers for nausea and ate a light breakfast of strawberries and yogurt. She dressed in a pair of black leggings and loose fitting black tunic, a big hat and aviator glasses and hoped that the rest of the world would get the message to leave her alone.

She still felt terribly savage with strangers in public, and it wasn't their fault she was miserable.

She told herself she hadn't yet made her decision, but she still went to the pharmacy and to drop off the prescription Caitlin had written. She went to the grocery store and bought calcium and iron-rich veggies and foods, nuts and seeds for their oils.

A craving for brownies struck her, and she headed to the baking aisle she'd need chocolate. After that, she grabbed ice cream, because why not. At the deli, she caught a whiff of meatloaf and had to have it. She decided right then and there to have mashed potatoes with gravy and maybe some kale. And she didn't want to cook all of this for just herself and Linda.

A text to her mom, dad, Henry, Linda, and Wally assured a family get together at the house and then a second text to invite Cisco and Caitlin; they should be there too. She asked Henry to help her cook since he didn't work. She didn't want to cook at the house by herself. She and Barry had cooked so many meals there together.

With her shopping done Iris headed back to her apartment where she made toast and a cup of coffee for an afternoon snack. She'd have to stop drinking coffee of course, but you didn't do that cold turkey she'd tried once after college, and the headache had nearly killed her. She studied the sonogram while she ate, blobs in jelly, creepy little alien blobs in jelly. In seventh months they could be two brand new human beings. Her and Barry's children. It was time for her to go and see him.

 

_Chapter XI:_ Gather Them Close

 

Iris' sweat dampened dress clung to her skin, sticky with humidity, her dark hair curling where sweat dampened her edges. She had over two months of new growth, maybe now was a good time to grow out her relaxer.

The wind, gusted warm then drying her sweat for a just a moment and whistling through the leaves of the trees. The late August trees were green and full some heavy with flowers, willows bending under the weight of their branches, the chirp of crickets and cicadas filled the air, along with birdsong, but it was quiet other than that a strange, solemn humanless world.

The sounds of the city, cars, people they were distant here. She supposed that made sense.

Iris hadn't been to the cemetery since the burial. She'd thought of going more than once, but had been far too drained. Now she faced Barry's grave with a mixture of guilt and hope.

People talked about feeling close to their lost loved ones, feeling their presence, their spirit. So far she hadn't felt Barry's presence or spirit anywhere. He would come to her if he could, she knew that much. Maybe he couldn't come to her at their apartments, but if he still had a spirit that she could feel it would be here. She stood studying his tombstone, roses in hand, sonogram in her purse and waited.

An ash old and broad stood a few feet away from the Allen plot, its branches fanning out to shade Nora and Barry's graves, and a plot reserved for Henry.

 _'Barry Allen, beloved son, and fiance, the only time he was ever early.'_ She leaned down to spread the roses on his grave, and Nora's tombstone caught her attention as she straightened up. A fine coating of dust covered the top of it, and Iris frowned. Even though she was there for Barry Iris took a moment to wipe to dust of Nora's tombstone and lay one of the flowers for her.

She remembered Nora Allen, vaguely. A kind, compassionate woman, cheerful, but she could be stern too, and Iris had secretly found herself waiting to see if the woman's red-headed temper would come out. If it had, it had never been in her presence.

"Nora you raised an amazing son. I love him with all my heart," She sighed. "I wish I could've gotten to know you better, had you for a mother-in-law."

Iris ran her hand over the sun-warmed marble, fingers lingering on the date. Nora had died so you. She said a silent prayer for Nora and turned her attention to Barry, the reason for her visit.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, Barry. I miss you every day at every meal, when I watch tv, when I hear about a scientific study or breakthrough on the news I still tell myself to ask you about it. They released a trailer for the new Star Trek movie. I was gonna let you talk me into going to the premier and maybe even let you convince me to cosplay as Spock and Uhura this time. You know I always let you drag me to that stuff, but I secretly liked them, now who am I gonna go with?" Iris waited and felt a lump form in her throat when she got no sense of Barry's presence. "I don't understand Barry; you're the Flash how could you die in a house fire? It doesn't make sense."

Still nothing. She squeezed her hands into fists for a moment and forced herself to continue.

"I'm pregnant Barry, and I don't know what to do. Caitlin thinks it was probably around May 12th, the night you proposed. I know we used protection, but here I am pregnant and by myself."

She fished the sonogram out of her purse.

"We're having twins Barry, they're fraternal, so it could be a boy and a girl." For the first time since Caitlin confirmed her pregnancy, Iris smiled just a little bit and held up the sonogram. "They look like little aliens."

Iris waited her smile faded.

"Alright, Barry I know you would come to if you could. So that means you can't." She put the wrinkled sonogram in her purse. "Maybe we're just so much meat, and chemicals no soul. Maybe none of this matters anyway."

Iris turned on her heel.

There was nothing here, no comfort or peace for her no matter how quiet and peaceful it seemed. Nothing, but a corpse cold in the earth and a pile of dirt. She could call her mother, make that appointment at Planned Parenthood. At that moment the wind stirred whipping her hair into a stream flowing back behind her and tearing the sonogram out of her hand. Without thinking she went after the little piece paper as it fluttered to land on Nora's grave. She bent to retrieve, and it and a feeling of warmth, love, and concern strong enough to push forth happy tears flooded her.

"Okay, Barry, okay."

* * *

 

The West house was redolent with the wonderful the fragrance good food cooking. Onion, garlic, and rosemary were heavy in the air while the warm, sweet scent of baking brownies rose to slowly overpower the savory fragrance of dinner.

"Iris have a seat. I'll keep an eye on this."

"Thanks."

Henry took over stirring the mashed potatoes, and Iris sat down at the kitchen table. Her stomach had stayed calm and let her cook, something she was grateful for. She wouldn't have been able to cook otherwise.

"I need to ask you something."

"What's going on?"

"Did you know-" She took a deep breath. "Did you know that Barry was The Flash?"

"Yeah," Henry said after a moment. "He told me about a week after he woke up."

"Oh." She looked down at the table for a moment. "Do you- do you know why he didn't tell me?"

"I think these are done." Henry turned the stove off. "You guys had just gotten together; he didn't want to jeopardize the relationship."

"But I wouldn't have-"

"-I know, and I told him that." Henry sat down, closed a hand over hers. "Listen, Iris; it wasn't just that. Barry had enemies."

"Henry my dad is a cop-"

"-It's not the same. That man Professor Wells, he wasn't what he seemed. He was a bad guy. He's the man who killed Nora."

Iris felt her eyes go wide and then she listened while Henry told her the story of Barry, The Flash, and the Reverse Flash.

"So this man came back from the future and killed Barry's mom before he'd even become The Flash." She stared at Henry, confounded by the very idea. "He came to the past to try and harm a little boy, and when he couldn't hurt that little boy he went after Nora?" Iris could hear an edge of hysteria in her voice.

"Dr. Wells- Eobard Thawne he's dead Iris."

She nodded and ran a hand through her hair, and the other hand drifted to her stomach. The feeling of wrongness that had been with her since she'd gone running to Henry's house the night of the fire flared into life again.

"Barry has enemies?"

"Yeah."

"Henry do you think-"

"Hey!" The kitchen door swung open then, and Wally strolled in eyes widening as he took in the scene in the kitchen. "This all looks and smells great."

Wally smiled that bright grin of his and the shadow that had fallen over her retreated.

"I'm so glad you're here sis'."

He pulled her up into a hug, and she felt her all of her baby brother's love and devotion in his embrace, but it wasn't enough to reach the fear and worry blooming in her heart.

* * *

 

The West house soon filled with guests, Wally, Linda, Joe, and Francine, along with Caitlin and Cisco. As much as she had been hiding in her apartment, avoiding the world it was good to see her childhood home filled with friends and family, get heartfelt hugs and wishes from people who truly cared about her and would care for the twins. It was good to see their friendly faces around the dining table while they ate and talked and laughed.

Had she been doing it wrong, burying herself in grief rather than surrounding herself with love?

Wally talked about school, Francine discussed the conference she'd been asked to speak at, Linda was full of sports talk, and Cisco was thinking of starting a tech business.

When they'd finished eating Joe made Wally help him clear the table.

Iris stood as they finished.

"Dad, Wally don't bring the dessert yet I have an announcement."

Joe and Wally returned to their seats, and all eyes went to her.

"I'm so glad I invited all of you over. This is the best I've felt, since well-" Her grief stirred, and Joe took her hand giving it an affectionate squeeze.

"Take your time sweetie."

"Thanks, dad." She squeezed his hand back. "I feel so loved right now, which is good because I'll be needing all of you in the coming months. A few days ago Caitlin confirmed that I'm pregnant with twins, just a little over two-"

"You're pregnant!" Henry stared at her gray eyes as clear and bright as she'd seen them since the fire.

She nodded.

"With twins?"

"Yes, Henry."

"Iris, oh my god." Henry was on his feet and coming around the table to catch her in a hug that lifted her off her feet.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." He held her for a long moment radiating happiness.

When Henry sat her on her feet, it was Joe's turn to hug her.

"So you're moving back in the right?"

"Yes, dad," Iris said ruefully.

"Iris this is great." Wally was grinning from ear-to-ear. "I'm sure I speak for everyone when I say you can count on all of us to help."

"Yes, mhmm." Echoed around the table.

"You know," Joe eyed everyone in the room. "None of you women seem all that surprised."

"Well, I'm the doctor." Caitlin volunteered with that slight smile of hers.

"And I'm her best friend and roommate," Linda said with a shrug.

"And I'm her mother of course I know," Francine said with a superior tilt to her chin.

The four women looked at each other and laughed.

"Well, at least we're not outnumbered, right Cisco."

Joe, Henry, and Wally looked to engineer for support.

Cisco shook his head.

"Don't look at me; I came with her." He pointed to Caitlin whose cheeks flushed a soft pink.

"Forget you man," Joe said. "What about this dessert?"

Sundaes were made with her favorite toppings, and they sat around the dining room table eating and talking. Iris savored the mix of warm gooey brownie and cool ice cream while they talked, everyone, giving her encouraging smiles from time-to-time.

* * *

 

"Hey baby girl," Joe came out onto the deck. "Now why am I not surprised to find you here?"

"Because Barry and I used to sit out here and talk all night during summer break," she replied.

"Yeah," he sat down next to her on the padded porch swing and Iris leaned against her father. "So how are you feeling, really?"

"Sad, worried, scared, but not as sad, worried and scared as I felt this morning."

"Good." Joe put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead.

Iris stared into a night lit by the yellow glow of streetlights, leaves on shadowed trees moving in the breeze. Joe sat with her silent, and she was grateful for that. She was tired, and there was still so much to say and do. Her grief and fear were still with her, and there were new worries.

Barry had enemies out there, somewhere, at least one had traveled in time. She knew enough about the world to know that sometimes when an enemy couldn't get the object of their revenge, they transferred their anger and hate to family, a loved one. Did Barry have any enemies of that kind? There was an undercurrent of meta-human fear growing in Central City. With The Flash gone meta-human crime was on the rise.

She wasn't naive enough to think that wouldn't crystallize into something dangerous and ugly. It had been happening to black people for four hundred years. And what would the world make of black meta-humans raised by a single mother? Iris sighed feeling a bone-deep weariness that had been with her since the night of the fire.

"What is it baby girl?"

"Nothing I want to talk about right now dad. Tonight was a good night."

"Yeah, it was. You should see Wally and Cisco in there trying to impress Caitlin and Linda with engineer talk."

"Oh really. What happened to that guy Wally was dating?"

"Didn't work-out I guess." Joe's arm tightened around her shoulders. "You know we're gonna take care of you right?"

"I know. I guess I'll have to tell everyone about Barry being The Flash."

Her father took a deep breath.

"You will, but not tonight."

"That and more."

"Yeah."

She'd have to tell them about Barry being the Flash, about his possible enemies, about the twins possibly being metas. There was a lot, but for the first time in weeks, Iris did not find her herself consumed by grief, worry, and fear. It was still there she could feel it sitting in her stomach, riding her shoulders waiting for that moment, the memory that would bring it all out again, but for the moment she could turn her mind from it, and she did.

Iris leaned against her father, let him put a protective arm around her shoulders, let her hand of its own accord drift down to lie against her stomach. For now, for one moment though she- they were content, and that was all that mattered.

 

_Chapter XII:_ Barry

 

**_56 Days Ago_ **

Barry ran from his father's burning house as fast as his stuttering speed would carry him. His vision was blurred, his depth perception confused somehow he kept crashing into things, miscalculating distances. The whole left side of his face felt as if it were on fire, a flame that reached down into his neck and chest. He kept touching his face and felt heat, incredible heat but no fire.

He needed to get to S.T.A.R. Labs. He couldn't fight Malcolm and Abra Kadabra in the state he was in. They had his remnant; the remnant would keep them occupied. It would give him time to get to Iris.

_"Don't worry about Iris when you're gone, brother. I'll look after her. I'll take of her."_

The heat of lightning in his system flared, and Barry put on an extra burst of speed just before it died altogether. Barry found himself standing in the middle of the street.

His only warning was the squeal of tires on damp pavement before the car smashed into him, and he was plunged into a world of pain.

There were sirens, lights, people asking him questions. He tried to answer them when he could. There were doctors then, people arguing that he shouldn't be awake and then painless sleep.

When he woke again, he was in a dull, sterile room flooded with sunlight he wasn't in any pain except for the left side of his face which felt still as if it were on fire. He tried to lift his hand to check, but it was all he could do to lift the leaden weight of his arm and watch hopelessly as it landed on his chest.

He remembered the fight, the accident.

How much time had passed? He needed to see Iris, make sure she was alright, make sure Malcolm didn't hurt her. They were supposed to be meeting with a wedding planner today. He tried to sit up, but his body would not obey him. His eyelids fluttered shut instead and he sunk back into sleep.

_"This guy's face is on fire."_

Barry focused on the words.

_"He's healed unbelievably fast, burning through the strongest painkillers and anesthetic like nothing. He's gotta be one of those meta-humans."_

Barry felt a shiver up and down his spine.

 _"He's unconscious, not going anywhere."_ There was a brief silence.  _"You'll pay me right, cause I could get in a lot of trouble."_

Barry kept his eyes closed, but willed himself to stay awake. He needed to hear this. It was important.

 _"Yeah. Yeah."_  He heard the sound of silence and then footsteps moving away, heard the door open and shut. Barry didn't know exactly what he'd just overheard, but that it didn't bode well for him, he was certain.

He opened his eyes and pulled off the electrodes taped to his skin before sitting up with a groan. The room spun, and Barry shut his eyes ignoring his aching body. They were dull pains, and he'd had enough of them in the past year-and-a-half to know that dull meant nearly healed. Only his face remained unchanged burning and inflamed as it had on that first night. Caitlin and Cisco would figure that out.

Barry pulled the I.V. free and pushed to his feet only to have the room spin. He shut his eyes and fell back on the bed stomach heaving and twisting. Barry willed the world to go still. He didn't know how much time he had before whoever that nurse had been talking to showed up.

When the dizziness passed Barry straightened up and staggered forward. He leaned first against the beside table and then the wall, his weakened limbs unable to support his weight. He crept toward the door one slow, short step at a time.

The dizziness stayed with him, and he kept his eyes closed to hide the nauseating blur each movement caused, a clammy sweat broke over his body as Barry fought his weakness to cross the room, the wall serving as a guide.

If only he had his speed to carry him away from here and whatever that nurse threatened, but his speed had abandoned him. The crackle of lightning that had been a part of his blood and bones almost since the moment he'd woken from his coma was gone.

The door opened then, and Barry opened his eyes. The door was to his right, and he saw a tall, blonde woman dressed in nurses' scrubs enter.

"What are you doing up?"

Alarm bells blared as he recognized the voice he'd heard earlier.

"I need to use the bathroom," the words came out in a rasping whisper.

"You shouldn't be up." She pointed to the urinal on the bedside table, and Barry swallowed.

"Let's get you back into bed."

"No," he said voice plaintive.

The nurse took his arm in spite of his protest and with a hand in the small of his back propelled him back across the space he'd covered with such difficulty.

"No." Barry tried to struggle against her grip but only succeeded in flexing his hands uselessly.

"You're weak as water aren't you?" She laughed then and pushed him down on the bed, pinning him under her weight. He caught sight of her name tag, Hatchet.

"Please don't."

She fished in her pocket and producing a syringe. Barry felt a spike of fear and a surge of adrenaline that gave him enough strength to renew his struggle.

"What are you doing?" Humiliating tears started. "Don't please I heard you on the phone. I have a fiance, family. They'll be looking for me."

She jabbed the needle into his arm.

"You're dead kid. You got nothing, no one is looking for you, and I got debts to pay."

The last thing he felt as she strapped him to the bed was the embarrassing release of his bladder.

He moved maybe; Barry couldn't be sure. He saw people in military uniforms, heard them talk about him, he couldn't be sure.

He regained consciousness once, maybe twice he couldn't be sure.

Wherever he was, it was dark, perhaps the back of a van. He was only ever awake for seconds before he felt the cold surge of drugs into his arms and was unconscious again and his face was always on fire.

When he finally woke with a clear head, it was to a dim, windowless room. He was in bed, wearing hospital scrubs and he was mercifully dry. He felt no pain except the fire in his face that seemed to always be with him now. The blur on the left side of his field of vision had worsened.

His first thought was of Iris. He needed to get to her, make sure she was safe. He had to get out of this room.

The room was spartan, a bed against the far wall, next to it a plain, cheap bedside table with three drawers. There was pitcher of water on the table. Barry didn't even bother with a glass just drank directly from it. The water hit his mouth with teeth-rattling chill washing away the last of his grogginess.

He took in the rest of the room. Recessed studio lights cast a gloomy glow throughout the room, and half the wall was covered in mirrored glass. Barry flinched as he caught sight of his face.

As a child, he'd been neither cute nor ugly. It had never occurred to him in high school that he might actually be good looking, not until senior year when he took Iris to prom, and they kissed. It was looking at their pictures later that he realized people might think he was tall and handsome. And since he and Iris didn't get together, well he decided to enjoy being considered attractive in college. For the first time in his life, he actually managed to have fun with his peers.

What he saw in the mirror made him shudder, ruin was an understatement. The left side of his face was mass of skin twisted and enflamed with smoldering blue fire. Left eyebrow gone, left eye bloodshot, the burned or he supposed burning skin went down into his neck, and he could feel a slash burned into his chest.

Panic, fear, worry flared, and Barry tamped down on those emotions clenching his hands into fists. He would get away from here, and Caitlin and Cisco would figure out how to put out the blue flame, and he would heal.

He forced himself to look back at the mirror, walk right up to it and study his reflection. No gap, it was two-way, and two of the room's four walls were covered with it. He was under observation, the fear flared again, and Barry took a deep breath forcing himself to remain calm.

Spock had always been his favorite Star Trek character, a scientist wracked by strong emotions. For the most part, Barry embraced his emotions, savored them even. His love for Iris, his dad, his family, and friends meant the world to him, made him better, stronger.

He'd never felt anything sweeter than Iris saying yes to his marriage proposal except maybe everything that had come after or the pride he'd felt when every time his dad celebrated another year of sobriety. But his anger could be dangerous, destructive, terrifying, his fear debilitating.

His emotions created tunnel vision. When he was fourteen Joe West had taught him to channel his anger into a punching bag. Tunnel vision was good in the narrow field of say a boxing match but dangerous in the broader world.

He'd never deny his, feelings but he couldn't let them control him.

"The greatest fear is the unknown," Barry whispered that to himself. "I need facts, information."

Barry steeled himself and took in the rest of the room. He found the door, simple, stainless steel, but no handle or doorknob. There was a slit near the bottom big enough to put say a tray of food through or perhaps a book.

So he was a prisoner, Barry started to pace. The scuffle with the nurse had not been some dream.

There was a monitor set into the wall somehow, that might come in handy later. He checked the content of the bedside table and found Gideon's bible in the top drawer.

Disgusted he sat back on the bed and tried to think when he heard the sound of the door flap being opened and something dropped to the floor. He went to the door and found that the newspaper had been left, The Central City times, Date June 17th. The day after Malcolm had ambushed him. Written across the top in black magic marker, turn to page six. Curious Barry turned to page six and saw a picture of himself from his college graduation, the title 'Man Dies in House Fire'.

He dropped the paper as if it had burned him and something fluttered out an obituary.

_'Our beloved, Bartholomew Henry Allen, aged 27, survived by his father Henry Allen, fiance Iris West...'_

He read no further, tearing it into pieces, and jerked his head up at the sounds of a television flickering on.

"Early this morning firefighters battled a five-alarm blaze in the quiet neighborhood of Avalon Park. What makes this fire so unusual was the strength of the blaze as it caught a second house on fire."

Barry stared transfixed, his father's house engulfed in blue and red flame filled the screen.

"Despite the ferocity of the blaze, only one man was killed. Barry Allen, a forensic scientist with the local CCPD. Some of you may recall that in the year 2000 Dr. Henry Allen was tried and acquitted of the murder of his wife Nora Allen, whose death remains unsolved to this day. Now tragedy seems to have struck the Allen family again. We take you live to the scene."

"As you can see the police have got barricades and tape up and there's a crowd of onlookers. I'm told this young lady here tried to rush into the burning house."

The camera panned to the crowd, and Barry felt his eyes widen as it focused on Iris miserable, hugging herself, hair wild, face tear-streaked and covered with soot she watched his burning house transfixed.

"A friend, a neighbor, perhaps we can get a word with her."

"Don't," Barry whispered that word and stood so he could see better. He could hear Iris' voice now in the back of his mind. "They always pick the worst looking black person to interview, I swear to God."

"Young lady you attempted to run into the house. Do you know the Allens?"

The camera panned in on her and Barry felt his heartbreaking.

"My fiance-" her words were soft, tight with misery.

"Your fiance he was in the house?"

She nodded and looked up at the reporter wide, dark, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Do you know? Have you heard anything? Please, I need to know."

Barry felt himself getting angry. They couldn't do this to her. They couldn't tell her that he was dead, break her heart on national television and record it for ratings.

"Your fiance is?"

"Barry Allen."

"Young lady-"

"-Get the hell out of here man, CCPD."

Joe seemed to come from nowhere, waving his badge in front of the camera and interposing himself between Iris and its lens.

"Come on sweetheart."

"Dad I need to know."

Joe pulled her away, but the cameraman followed them. So Barry saw it when her knees buckled, and she collapsed against Joe, heard a wail that broke his heart, saw her pull away and turn back toward his house.

Rage flammed through him for Malcolm Thawne Abra Kadabra, and Nurse Hatchet, for whoever had him here a prisoner, kept him away from Iris and broke her heart, rage for the news reporter who would exploit her pain and suffering for his own benefit.

"Turn it off!"

If he could have reached the television, he would have wrenched it from its socket as it has he wrenched a drawer from the dresser and hurled it at the mirrored wall.

The television flickered off.

The slot opened again, and this time a plastic cafeteria tray came through with three packets, a spork wrapped in plastic, and a bottle of bright pink lemonade and a slice of cheesecake. The packets were simple, brown with black lettering, MRE, ready to eat meal, chicken fettuccine alfredo, his hunger stirred, but Barry ignored that.

"What the hell is this?" Barry shouted.

"Eat Mr. Allen."

Barry froze and felt his hackles rising.

"General Eiling?" He scanned the room for the source of the speakers.

"Yes."

"What the hell do you want from me?"

"I want you to eat. You're going to need your strength."

"I don't know what the hell is going on, but the only plan you better have is one for releasing me." His eyes found the speaker. "You can't keep me here. My friends and family will be looking for me."

"I thought all you scientist worked with evidence and facts. Your family and friends think you're dead no one is looking for you. Sit down, eat Mr. Allen, make yourself comfortable you're not going anywhere."

"No! To hell with you, to hell with this!" Heated and flushed with anger now Barry kicked the tray and threw the food hard enough to burst the packages smearing chicken pasta on the mirror. "To hell with you!"

"Ahh, Mr. Allen now that was a mistake. We are going to be partners defending this great country; it's up to you how that partnership goes. Now we can't have you wasting food. If you didn't want to eat those MREs that's fine, they would have sat unopened for months and been given to someone else. Now that you've opened them you need to eat them. I won't force you of course, but you won't be given anything else until you do."

Barry heard the crackle of a microphone being turned off and grew angrier.

"No!"

_"Don't worry about Iris when you're gone, brother. I'll look after her. I'll take of her."_

Anger churned in him and fear for Iris. All thoughts of emotional control gone past reason. Again and again, he tried to phase, tried to find the lightning even though in his heart and core Barry already knew it was gone. He thought of every lesson, every mystery he'd learned from Reverse Flash, from Zoom, figured out for himself and nothing worked. The telltale crackle of energy in every fiber of his being, the heat, it was gone.

There was no breath, no trick, no point of focus that would bring his lightning back.

Perhaps he hadn't eaten enough. He ate every bit of wasted food in his cell from where it had stuck, drank the lemonade, the water with dogged determination. He slept and ate the breakfast provided, and still, his speed didn't return. With each failure his nerves frayed a little more, his mind turned more and more to Iris needing him agonized, he worried for his father heartbroken. Henry Allen had barely survived Nora's death he couldn't go through that again.

When he wasn't trying to get his speed working, Barry prowled his cell one of two dreadful thoughts occupying his mind. Eiling had some type of dampener like the meta-human cuffs at work so his speed wouldn't in the cell or all of the energy that normally went into his speed was absorbed in one thing.

His speed had failed before the accident. That was how he had come to be standing in the path of a speeding car.

The human body would divert resources into whatever the most urgent need or threat was and away from everything else. He still had the same appetite, so that meant his speed was being used, but for what? Not for phasing out of this cell.

Barry paused his pacing to study his face in the mirror, the smoldering blue flame settled in his skin, it never lessened, and it never grew. It stayed the same. At his best guess a week had passed, and yet the fire was unchanged. That meant something was holding it back and that something was his speed or the energy that went into it.

And with each day, each moment, each failure, every nightmare the anger that had been with him since he was boy, since his mother had been murdered, his father arrested, for every time the power was out at his house, the refrigerator empty, all the days of the winter he went without hat, scarf or mittens and a coat with too short sleeves cause Henry had drunk up his money all of that anger and rage crept up on him and always Malcolm's taunt in the back of his mind.

_"Don't worry about Iris when you're gone, brother. I'll look after her. I'll take of her."_

His anger passed it bounds flowing into hot, unthinking rage, driving him to attack the cell door. Pounding the unforgiving steel until his fist bled, screaming himself hoarse demanding release before he finally collapsed in a state of total exhaustion to lie spent on the floor. His only comfort the soothing coolness of the tile against his burnt skin and lying on the floor of his cell watching his knuckles heal.  _This couldn't be happening._

**Author's Note:**

> That's the end of part one. Hope you enjoyed it. There will be one month hiatus with part two starting in mid-November and picking up a few years later.
> 
> triggers/warnings: chapter 8: brief suicidal ideation, chapter 9: talk of abortion, everyone thinks Barry's dead, but he's not, chapters 1-11: grief/mourning, some foul language


End file.
